Soulmates

Stars and raindrops

I've been wandering around for several hours in the city that's just barely waking up. The morning is crisp and the freezing breeze makes me shiver. I could go back to the apartment I used to live in, since it would be empty, but I don't feel like it.

I don't have a home. Home is not a place anymore but a sensation — that of being with them, being with him. Home is curling up in his arms and feeling his warm breath against my skin. It is losing myself in his eyes, in his laugh. It is my heartbeat getting faster when I see his dimples. It is feeling loved and wanted every time I meet his gaze.

But we can't anymore. We shouldn't. I shouldn't go back or even think about it. We have kept that place for the members of the pack whenever they wanted some alone time. I don't feel like going back to their scents and coming to terms with my life without them.

In the end, my body feels sore from exhaustion and I don't have anywhere else to go. So I finally make my way there gloomily. This is where everything started, in front of the worn-down wooden door. I place my key in the hole and breathe in deeply before pushing the door open and going in.

My senses have become more acute since I'm connected to the pack and so the mix of scents suffocates me and swallows me whole. Tears burn my eyes and run down when I recognize Chris's scent. I collapse on the bed, my body shaking with intense sobs. I feel like a lost child without any arms there to comfort me. Alive with my sorrow.

I accept my pain and my grief, letting my cries rip through the silence. I don't know how long I stay like this, lying down, my head buried in a pillow. I finally fall asleep, exhausted by the emotions, the tears and the sleepless night. My dreams are soft and tender. I find my way back to him and it's as if nothing had happened. It's just like our first moments together. Those moments when we understood each other, when everything was simpler and when our hearts weren't broken in a thousand pieces.

I wake up in the middle of the night. My eyes are swollen and my face is red with the salt from the tears. Something is tearing at me from the inside, like a thread pulling at my heart. I know it is the bond with the pack but I don't want to take hold of it. So I try to ignore it and bury it as deep inside of me as I can, even if I get its desperation — which I caused — with full force.

At first, I relapse regularly so I do everything I can to forget. Sometimes I think again about Chris attitude towards me during those last weeks, his jealousy, his anger, his anguish, his protectiveness pushed to the extreme, and then my sadness is replaced by resentment. A bitter taste spreads in my mouth and I clench my teeth. In those moments, I don't regret leaving him because I manage to convince myself that it is all his fault.

Other times, I dive head first in the euphoria of meeting new people so I don't collapse from the pain and the sorrow. Going out enables me to get back a life of sorts, to numb my feelings and most of all to erase his scent from my body. Feeling wanted by other people helps me forget him. Sleeping with other people and feeling pleasure in arms that are not his is a way to erase him, even if he is never far from my thoughts.

The first few times that I sleep with strangers met during a night out, I let myself experience the orgasms and the pleasure, but then guilt comes back to haunt me.

Then I end up under the shower, crying my eyes out. I brush my body with soap until my skin turns red and inflamed. When the soap is not enough, my nails scratch my skin, leaving red marks on my body. I don't really know if I'm trying to wash away the shame I'm feeling or if I'm trying to get rid of his scent sticking to my skin and becoming stronger, suffocating me. But he is imprinted deep inside my body and my soul. So it's all useless.

During those brief embraces, his face comes to me sometimes. Sometimes, it's like I'm feeling his hands, his tongue or his body, the taste of his skin and his penis once again. I often have to refrain from screaming his name and grabbing the bond. It means fighting against my instincts but I can better bury my feelings inside a little more each time.

One night I bring someone back to the apartment. It is the first time in a long time. We kiss and brush against each other. Pleasure has me sweating and moaning. Then suddenly, in the middle of sex, the bond starts throbbing once more within me and tickles my lower belly, just like when Chris and I would make love. I can't help but grab hold of it, unable to keep my emotions under control. I immediately regret it. A rush of despair, sadness and pain overwhelms me, leaving me breathless and with tears in my eyes. I sit back up and push them away. Their scent makes me nauseous. Their touch makes me feel sick.

"Are you okay?"

"Please, leave."

"But we —"

"Leave!" I cry out, gagging.

They get up, get dressed and leave without a word, confused. I stay in bed, knees up for my head to rest against, arms around my legs. The scent is unbearable and the nausea gets more intense with each breath. The bond throbs harder and harder, making my stomach turn.

I rush to the bathroom and throw up. I stay like that for several minutes, kneeling by the toilets, quiet until a familiar scent brings me out of it. A scent I haven't smelled in weeks. I wash up and wrap up in a bedsheet before going to open. Felix is in the doorway. He balances on one foot then the other and avoids my gaze. He is uncomfortable and I am too. I know he can smell the strange scent and the smell of sex.

When he raises his eyes to meet mine, I can see the golden specks in them — proof that his wolf is just under the surface, ready to take charge. We stay like that for a while, neither ready to break the thick silence around us. I don't really know what to say except —

"I'm sorry, Lixie."

"You did what you thought was best for everyone. I can't — we can't blame you."

His answer surprises me. I left without any explanation when they had just risked their lives to save Chris. I barely said thank you when they deserved it. They deserved to know why I took the decision to leave. I abandoned them. It's as simple as that.

"But you're wrong, Y/N. This isn't the solution. Everything — Everything's wrong without you. It's a mess in my head. It's a mess in the pack. Chris is becoming —"

He stops.

"Can I come in?"

I let him through and as he passes by me I can hear him sniffle and let out a barely perceptible growl, showing his disapproval. And yet, he refrains from any comment. After putting on a more appropriate bathrobe, I sit facing him to avoid any physical contact. He starts again in a small voice.

"Chris is getting — out of control? Unpredictable? Mad? Probably all of the above."

I stay quiet.

"Tonight he had a meltdown. He turned into a wolf and ran away. I've never seen him like this. He was wild. He was — scary."

I bite my lips. I have felt what he is going through and I know perfectly well what sent him over the edge. I can feel a lump in my stomach and my throat — a lump I know all too well now — guilt.

"I can't do anything, Lixie. Forgive me."

He twists his fingers and sighs.

"Come back."

His voice is no more than breath crossing his lips. I look away.

"I can't. Chris and I, we keep hurting each other."

"But it's worse without you."

Without saying anything else, he gets up and leaves. I stay there without saying a word, alone for a long time. And for the first time since that night, I realize I miss him. This discomfort I have in my heart all the time, it's me missing him. Have I made the right choice?