Set the Truth Ablaze: KotLC Oneshots

Keefoster

So usually whenever I post a oneshot, I say it's trash, and it is trash, but it's my useless discarded matter, and I'm always a little proud, you know? I'm not in any way proud of this. Not one bit. It's horrible. Vote and comment! Hope you enjoy :)

@Griffin0123 Here is my disappointing entry :)

Sophie couldn't draw. She never drew. At the age of nine, she'd learned about soulmatism and vowed to practice her drawing skills — or lack thereof — until she turned fourteen. At fourteen, anything she drew would show up on her soulmate's skin, and honestly, that'd be terrifying. Who wanted stick figures on their skin?

For five years she told herself she'd do it. But there was always something in the way, something she had to do before, and there was always enough time later. Or maybe that was what she told herself so she wouldn't have to deal with failing.

Now she was seventeen. She hadn't drawn once in the last three years. Not a sketch, not a doodle, not a scribble, nothing. How angry would her soulmate be with her if she ruined their clean skin with a beastly monstrosity she claimed to be a simple butterfly?

Writing didn't count, of course, and though she didn't know exactly how this whole soulmate thing worked, she was grateful not to have pages upon pages of homework inked upon her skin. Sometimes cursive was mistaken for art, as well, but that didn't happen very often, and nor was it as mortifying as what could've been.

She had heard of stories about several whose handwriting were so terrible, it was mistaken for a scribble of some sort, and now there were people walking on the earth with grocery lists scrawled along their legs. Nightmares haunted her for years, and she spent ages perfecting her handwriting, keeping it slow and readable.

If her soulmate had a list of People Sophie Hates Tremendously inked permanently on their skin, she wasn't sure how they'd react when they found her. Especially if they were on that list.

Thankfully, her soulmate must have kept their handwriting comprehensible, too. Only glorious sketches of tigers, and turtles (she was pretty sure her soulmate loved turtles after how many they'd drawn), and flowers, and an assortment of beautiful views graced her skin along her forearm, her back, her shoulders, and sometimes the most discreet sides of her ankles.

She wasn't sure why they weren't as cute as her best friend/cousin Dex's, who had an adorable grinning smurf on his right inner wrist and a little band of singing mushrooms on his left one, or why they weren't as obvious as Marella's — who found her soulmate immediately after she found Linh Song inked across her shoulder — or why they weren't as goofy as Jensi's, whose now-boyfriend had sketched an adorable dragon sticking its tongue out across the whiteboard in their eighth grade class, and Jensi had watched the very moment the inky black veins ran along his arm at the same time. Watching it in the very moment it was drawn was rare.

And, of course, her own adoptive parents, the Ruewens' story, was the story she'd heard most. They'd practically grown up together since seventh grade — in fact, her mother had found her father infuriating until they'd graduated high school.

Everything her mother, Edaline, had drawn was careful, delicate, gentle, and strong, just like her.

Her father, on the other hand, declared, as any lovesick teenage boy would, that soulmatism had absolutely no power over him. Listen, whoever you are, soulmate, I like Edaline, and I always will, he'd written in messy cursive. Deal with it. -Grady Ruewen.

Edaline, who'd been sitting across the classroom, had watched in shock as it scrawled across her upper right arm, strolled straight up to him, slapped him straight across the face, and told him to take drawing lessons instead of trying to cheat the code with childish cursive. Apparently even the teacher was laughing too hard to scold her.