Destiny's Mark [Yoongi/Suga x Reader Soulmate AU]

Chapter 1

[warning: description of thinking about suicide, alcoholism, swear words]

The snow was falling all over the forest road, making it slippery and sparkly at the same time. It would be dangerous to walk upon the slippery mud and grass, but you did not care at the exact moment. You were already tipsy and stumbled upon your own legs as you tried to walk to the fallen tree near the lake to sit on it. 

The whiskey bottle in your hands was half-emptied and your backpack held other three bottles of the same brand, just in case one did not do the trick.
Trudging through the fresh snow, slipping on it, and somehow, a tree always being there to break your falls, you grumbled as you finally got to the edge of the lake. You had just one plan in your head, get wasted and cry. Today was your birthday and you ran away from everything: your work, your house, your family, your responsibilities.

'Fuck those' you thought as you just let yourself fall on the hard bark of the fallen tree. You knew that would hurt later after you wake up from your drinking; you did not care. Turning thirty years in about an hour or so, according to your clock, just made you want to throw up. Everyone kept nagging you about the future, your work, your health, and most importantly your soul mark. In a world of soul marks, you were cursed with not even a hint of it. And the age of thirty was the finish line: if you did not get a soul mark by then, you would never get it. Of course, your lucky self would be one of the few people in the entire world who would not get one. And it sucked. It made you want to throw a tantrum, throw the bottle at some unseen force and ask it why.

 Why did you have to be the only one in that small forgotten town to be left without a mark? It felt smothering, a weight which you could not carry, all those looks and whispers behind your back; remarks about your person and body which grew heavier upon your soul; all those attempts of maybe, just maybe ending it all before you turned thirty. But you always hoped, you let that little light of hope live in your heart, that maybe, just maybe the mark would appear someday.
  But here you were, turning that dreading age in minutes away from your present, and no colors, itches, pains, burns, illusions, nothing. Just your eyes filling with tears more and more, and the whiskey bottle getting emptier as you chug from it. The liquid burns your throat and your stomach, and you think you deserve it. You keep drinking, hoping it might knock you out and maybe kill you before the morning comes, and then the snow would be covering you up for at least 6 months or so. 

The thought of just letting it end seemed entertaining enough for you to finish that whiskey bottle, and then choke on the last violent sip. Coughing, you glare at nothing through your tears and want to throw the bottle away, but even in your tipsy form, you don't want to litter, so you just put it in your backpack as you fish a new bottle out.

Struggling to open the new bottle, you frown as the entire space around you spins with you in its center and you know the dinner you had before the drinking started was starting to claw its way back up. You hoped it would stay in there for at least until you finished the new bottle, to be so hammered you would not even care you threw up. Hiccupping, you try to sit up straighter, and just look out at the lake, lost in the way the snow was falling on the ice above the water.

'That's another thought. Why not just go in the lake and drown? Easier and cleaner...oh right, the kids might find the bloated body when the ice melts. No need for traumas' you thought gloomily, groaning as nothing but violent and dark thoughts whispered in all corners of your mind. 

You knew the whiskey gave them more power and louder voices, but you did not care. You wanted to drown out your pain and despair, even if that meant all the things you never let anyone know about you would come crashing on the surface. You closed your eyes and let them lead you down the path of nothingness, taking another drink from the fiery liquid.
   Footsteps behind you made you stop from your pity drinking, and you slowly turned to see a shadow of a person approaching you. Tilting your head to try and see better, because your intoxicated mind said that was the most logical thing to do, you feel yourself slipping off the bark of the tree and land straight in the snow at the back, your back and left arm hitting the branches on its way down. Chuckling, you stay like that, mesmerized by the stars twirling around your eyes. They were either twirling or the sky was spinning due to your drunk brain. Either way, it was too pretty to stop watching it.