Diamond Heart | Hyunbinchan

Chapter 3

Note: I know this next part starts... like it does, but it's gonna be okay I promise
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Chan is with Changbin when a tattoo draws itself on Changbin's collarbone.

It's a sunday morning, maybe around ten – and Chan knows because this is when Changbin comes to his apartment after a gym session. Changbin knows the code to Chan's apartment, and Chan is usually awake by this time, and then Chan cooks breakfast for two. Changbin sits and tells Chan about his week, the dogs he saw on his run, the high society gossip his mother tells him with the strict order to tell absolutely nobody.

Dark lines begin to form on Changbin's collarbone, and at first Chan dismisses it as a trick of the light, and then he dismisses it as a line of dirt, or dust, or a bruise. He doesn't focus on it, in fact he tries to not focus on the still sweaty skin of Changbin's chest. So he smiles at Changbin's cute recount of something his personal trainer said about triceps muscles and turns to the scrambled eggs, humming in agreement.

Then he turns around to deposit the finished eggs on Changbin's plate, and the eggs scatter around the plate and Chan nearly drops the pan. Because that's not just the light falling weirdly. It's colours painted on Changbin's collarbone in the shape of a flower.

"Hyung, are you okay? What –"

Chan can't, for the life of him, tell what kind of flower it is.

Changbin follows Chan's eyes, looks down at himself and freezes when he catches sight of his skin. The flower is – well, it's beautiful. Shades of pastel pink and pastel purple with spring green accents. Delicate in the curves of multiple small blossoms and soft in the way it curves around Changbin's collarbone. A work in progress still, but unmistakable.

Chan can't breathe.

"Oh," Changbin says, eloquently, but then his expression goes blank. "I..."

Belatedly, Chan realises his scrambled eggs are spread over the table and the kitchen floor. He goes to put the pan back on the stove, gathers paper towels and starts cleaning up the mess. He focuses on the squishy eggs and the hard table, on wiping away the grease stain the egg left on the wood, on relaxing his shoulders and at the same time trying to keep his hands from shaking.

"I'm not hungry anymore," Changbin murmurs. "Thank you for making me food whenever I come over."

It sounds like a goodbye.

"I... I'll text you," Changbin says, and leaves.

The door of Chan's apartment falls shut.

"Wait," Chan says to the empty space.

Soulmate tattoos don't make mistakes. One half of the soul gets a tattoo on their body, the other half of the soul watches it appear on their skin. None of the pain of a tattoo reaches the other half, even though it's real time, no matter the distance between them. Often, people don't even notice their soulmate is getting a tattoo, because they're asleep or wearing clothes that cover where the tattoo appears.

"Wait," Chan says again, quieter, almost a whisper. Chan always thought Changbin would be happy if he got a tattoo. Why did he think that?

Shouldn't this be a good thing? Changbin should be happy. Why isn't he?

Chan sits down heavily and leans against the cupboards. He notices a piece of fried egg from this angle that he missed picking up earlier.

No texts on his phone. Well, he can't expect Changbin to text a minute after he ran out of Chan's apartment.

He takes a deep breath. So Changbin has a soulmate, and that soulmate is not Chan. He can deal with that. He expected that. It'll be okay. He stands up, gets a washcloth, starts wiping down surfaces. He washes and puts away the used dishes. He breathes.