The Kiss Bet: Oliver & Sara Oneshots

Tattoo

A music note.

A music note made from a blot of ink dripping from a feathered pen.

This is what had appeared on Oliver's upper chest, just over his heart, barely below the base of his neck and ever-so-slightly visible over the neckline of his t-shirt.

The boy had just turned 17, and right as the clock hit midnight a short sort of burn stung at the spot. Once the mild pain ceased he pulled down the collar of his shirt just low enough to see the relatively small black mark on the skin. He knew which symbol was meant for him, but who could the pen represent?

WHAT could the pen represent?

He gave a frustrated sigh. Of course, it had to be something that wasn't obvious.

"Well? Joe asked from the desk in the corner, "what is it? Who is it?"

"Music note for me, one of those old-timey feather pen things for whoever else it is. Can't tell who it is from that," Oliver answered bluntly.

The older boy hummed in thought before sighing in defeat, "sorry bro, I can figure out just as much as you from that. Maybe a writer? Maybe one of the girls in our newspaper club?"

"Or maybe someone all the way across the world. Whatever, I have the rest of my life to figure it out," he said, climbing up to the top bunk, a sadness that he refused to acknowledge buried in the pit of his stomach.

"Okay..." Joe said with a pitiful sort of voice, feeling sympathy for the poor boy who found such little hope in the tattoo forever burnt into his skin.

Later that morning, the two get ready, silence lingering between the pair. There was a sort of tension that hung about in the atmosphere, making the blueberry boy hesitant to talk to his younger brother. He could tell his soulmate mark was bothering him, yet there wasn't a thing to do about it but wait.

Only when the boys reach the school gates are they met with a loud and excitable voice, "yo, Happy Birthday Oliver!"

They turn their heads only to see a smiling brunette bounding toward them, him immediately nodding towards Oliver's chest, "come on, let's see it!"

The blond gave a sigh, mildly annoyed knowing he'd have to do this all day. Though, he did oblige and tugged at the collar of the sweater, undoing the very top button of the white shirt underneath.

For a moment Patrick looked with a slight squint, and after a second he appeared to be thinking as he leaned in closer to his body, making the younger boy stumble back, "hey, back off, personal space!"

He brought his face back, quickly apologizing as he held back a slight smirk, "sorry. Just looks familiar...."

"Do you know who has the matching one??" Joe chimes in suddenly, making Patrick bring his eyes away from the blackened area and crossing his arms and speaking not-very-convincingly, "hm, shame, I can't remember."

"Of course, our only lead just HAS to have the memory of a goldfish." Oliver says bluntly as he rebuttons the shirt and adjusts his clothing back to normal.

"Rude." Patrick says with mock offense before shrugging, "but fair enough."

As Joe and Patrick ramble on about whatever test they have in class, the youngest of the three can't help but feel as though it was still just a little too quiet even with the rambunctious pair beside him. Why was that? What was the missing piece?

"Hey!" Patrick says from the other side of Joe, getting Oliver's attention.

The boy raises an eyebrow and waits for him to continue as Pat grins, "maybe you can ask Sara, she and I know a lot of the same people, maybe she'll remember better if she's seen that symbol."