but i can't make you come back to me

if only the universe was a little bit kinder.

The eighteen years Haewon had waited felt like a million.

She never had friends in that time, but she still witnessed others get it. Some were happy, some woke up to the news of their soulmate with an entire life to live ahead of them, years upon years of possibility to find them and share their lifetimes. Some were worried, with only several years, or mere months, Haewon had overheard once, at a cafe she'd often visit.

In all her time of waiting, she worried. What if her soulmate only had months, too? How would she find someone, of several billion possibilities, in time?

It's raining on the day she wakes up with it.

Haewon is greeted by a distant, stinging sensation at her wrist before she's even awake. It doesn't hurt, but it feels weird, almost like she wants to scratch it. She knows better than to do so.

It takes her several minutes to realise what's happening, the day it was. The moment she does, she sits up straight, letting the several blankets around her tumble forwards. She feels it, at her wrist. It's there.

Her heart races at the thought of what's waiting for her on the other side of her arm. It's only one movement away from everything she's waited to know, yet she can't bring herself to look for another minute or so.

The girl takes a long breath, her eyes shutting as she moves her wrist into view.

Slowly, her eyes open.

And it's really there, right in front of her. Amongst the soft skin of her arm, the intimidating black ink that every individual waited their entire lives for. A date, clear as possible to read. The date her soulmate would die.

The date had already passed.

Haewon reads the date, again and again. She even brings her finger to run over it a few times, as if it's a decoy for the real one hiding behind it.

There's no way. Something like this isn't possible.

Maybe she's dreaming.

It's not real. This doesn't happen.

But it doesn't go away, it doesn't change, and she doesn't wake up from a nightmare.

Nearly two months ago, the date tells her.

She still waits. She spends her eighteenth birthday just how she imagined, a meal with her family, a nice outing with them. But she's distant, distracted, constantly feeling on the verge of tears. She sees couples, happy pairs of people walking together, eating, and laughing. And they're not her, they won't ever be her.

Her hope is minimal, but for another day, even two, it's still there. She doesn't bother to look at the mark at her wrist, pretends that it isn't there in hopes that it's magically changed.

It hasn't.

On the third day since waking up with it, she sits in front of her laptop. Her fingers are reluctant to type it, but she does, she has to.

She searches for it, the date of her soulmate's death. She experiments with several searches, first in Korea, then in Seoul.

And soon enough, something comes up that catches her eye.

Lily Morrow, nineteen years old.

Died on her way to hospital after a car accident.

Haewon feels like she can't breathe. There's a photo, one of the girl graduating, with the brightest smile she thinks she's ever seen. Her eyes are bright too, full of light and hope, hair perfectly framing her face. Everything about her is perfect, Haewon is sure that the girl meets every requirement to be a model. She looks normal, happy. Haewon wants to believe that too, that the gorgeous, lively girl in the photo staring back at her is just that.