HEY
i don't know how to title
i'm sorry
i'm not dead yet, and this was an idea i got from a friend of mine cause we were talking about dem soulmate marks and he's an idiot, lmao
Not Beta-ed
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When he was a child, his parents always, always avoided talking about the words scribbled across his wrist. No matter how many times he tried to ask what it meant, he was left without an answer. Everyone had rather simple words on their tattoos, so why was his so complicated? Not even his brothers explained to him what it meant, although, they certainly seemed to know as they looked at each other and snickered.
It wasn't until he got older that he understood what exactly he had written on his wrist since birth.
And how fucking embarrassing it was.
What the bloody hell was his future self doing if the words coming out of his soulmate's mouth once he met him were those?
Whenever someone asked about his words. He shamefully lied and avoided the issue whenever possible.
The worst was that his brothers knew. Oh, they knew. And he was teased relentlessly once he finally understood the terrible words.
He shied away from everyone.
It was simply not possible for him. For Arthur bloody Kirkland to actually take photos in the nude and post them online.
Unless he got completely smashed.
Which was what happened.
He moved to the United States for university. And, he decided, that it was time to start anew. Completely ignoring his mark, that was to be forgotten and he would much rather spend his life by his lone self, perhaps with a cat however.
So, finding himself alone at an entirely new country, it was to be expected that he took one or two bad decisions, life was all about making mistakes sometimes, right? And Arthur always lived life by the rules, so it was time to change it up a bit. What could go wrong?
Many things could go wrong in America.
First things first, the alcohol was shite, but once you drank enough, it stopped mattering if it was good or bad.
He was also a terrible drunk, he discovered, because he must've talked about his problems to at least half the strangers at the party. He didn't know anyone. Nor anyone knew him.
Everyone was absolutely pissed drunk. They started playing truth or dare and Arthur may or may not have lost half his clothes in it since he could barely form coherent sentences, but hey, they were all having fun, so there's that. He must have lost what had remained of his clothes once they started playing seven minutes in heaven and he was thrown into a closet with another lad, and... the rest was history.
So, it was no surprise when the next morning Arthur woke up completely wasted, vowing to never drink again as he ran to the nearest bathroom to throw up.
"I hate my life..." He cursed as he washed his face. Seeing himself in the mirror he paused. Besides the fact that he looked like a truck had ran over him, he was also naked.
Everyone was still sleeping away and procrastinating on the bloody awful hangover that he already had. As quietly and as gracefully as he could, he picked up whatever pieces of his clothing he could find and made a run for it.
"A night to forget." He stated as he closed the door behind him. He didn't feel any pain, so although he was naked, there hadn't been any business down there. And that was a blessing.
