23 year old Emma Strom has had no luck with a little subject called love. Married at 20, pregnant by 21, and then divorced at 23 isn't exactly the plan she created for herself. All of her friends have their soul marks, so where was hers?
Believing h...
She breathed a sigh of relief. Taking her wet beanie off of her head and hanging it up on the hook, panting and shivering from the cold. She was happy to be in her dry, if not a little bare, apartment and away from work. Her heels felt as if they were shattered inside of her skin. Working every day, at least 80 hours for each job, would do that to someone's feet. She found her tan shade couch, plopping down and rushing to take off her heather gray off–brand converse shoes and rubbed her feet with one hand as she checked her phone with the other. There was a text from her sister, a few tagged posts in Facebook and a notification for YouTube. Nothing too important, nothing to be concerned about. She sighed, blowing out between pursed lips and slouched her back. The silence was deafening. Her side burned dully, causing her to hiss in annoyance. She pushed herself off of the couch with a wince, tip toeing her way over to the bathroom, her hands all but tearing her faded–blue jumper off of her body, flinging it to the floor. She'd pick it up later. She looked down, the flare on her bleach washed jeans was dirtied and damp due to the rain and sidewalk puddles. She sighed, fingers fiddling with the buttons and slid out of the jeans, leaving her in her gray boy shorts and matching bra. She paused at the mirror, lifting her arms and checking her sides, a deep red pattern seemed to burn its way from the muscles. She cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing as her mind boggled at the possibilities. Shrugging and putting it out of her mind as she jumped into the boiling hell water that spurted from her shower head.
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The brush carried through her long hair smoothly, leaving it tangle free and carrying away the fly aways. She clutched at her towel, watching an episode of IZombie as she prepared for bed. She was tired, unbelievably so and the pain in her side had only doubled during her shower. The opposite result of what she had actually wanted. She groaned, letting her towel fall to the floor and exposing her to the cool air. She angled herself slightly so as to get a better look at her side. Her eyes widened in shock as she found freckle–like marks —words — on her side. Dark brown, jagged writing painted her side.
"Do you know what I've been through to find you?" White hot tears budded in the corners of her eyes, her hands shaking, trembling. It had finally come, after years of heartbreak and tears, she might actually have some hope. But who was it? She quickly grabbed her phone, snapping a photo of her side and sending it to her sister before calling her.
"Yeah?" Her sister answered the call almost immediately.
"Lookatyourmessagesrightnow!" Emma practically screamed in one breath, her mouth moving too quickly.
"Woah! Calm down, girl. What's so impo— oh, come on! Are you fucking kidding me?"
"I got a mark, Kris!"
"So I see, Em. But you should have put some clothes on or cover up or something." Her sister exclaimed. Emma paused, a faint blush running up her cheeks. To preserve her modesty she gripped the towel and covered herself. She floated back down to her seat. She took a moment to catch her breath.
"In my defense, you used to change my diapers," she muttered calmly. Her sister chuckled on the other end. Emma imagined Kris shaking her head.
"True. So anyway, who is he? You've had to have bumped into him, right?"
"Well...I don't really know. I was working when it showed up." Emma mulled over, biting the inside of her cheek in thought. She hadn't thought to pay attention to the people in the diner.
"Well, then he must have come into your work at some point today. Do you think you can remember who was at there when you first felt it?" Yes, because I can remember all of the dozens of faces that come crawling into my work for a bite to eat. She thought sarcastically before slumping over and sighing.
"No. It was during our lunch rush, so there was too many people. For all I knew it could have been Billy Marsh from highschool." She murmured, a chill running down her spine at the mention of Billy's name. Billy had been the black sheep of the school. She could still see him, lurking around the back of the busy classrooms, his hazel glare forever boring into the back of her head. She grimaced at the thought of him being her marked soulmate. Emma heard her sister hum in contemplation, thinking over the situation. She had to admit, it wasn't an ideal situation. Though, it was nothing short of a miracle that her mark had finally burned into her. Normally if a person isn't marked by the age of eighteen they wind up unmarked forever.
"Well, he'll probably make his way back to your dingy work sooner or later. He'll probably come to you, I mean you are pretty blind, haha!" Kris poked fun at her. Emma grinned, faking offense before wishing her sister a good night and hanging up. The air had turned cold and she wasn't sure if she could stand being naked much longer. For some reason she felt as though she wasn't alone anymore, and just feeling that Gabe her a small comfort. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the marks, savoring that it still felt like her skin even though the heat burned her. A ghost of a smile crept across her features and her breath escaped her. She finally had her mark. She finally found her Twin Flame.
