Chapter Eight

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"We're thought to believe that women are beautiful and men are handsome. Why can't men be beautiful? Why can I be beautiful?"

Mark Fischbach stood shaking in the mirror.

His stubble was gone, hair fluffy and pink. He had an everlasting smile on his face-

that disappeared the moment he woke up.

When he woke up, he had red hair with black on the sides. It was greasy and messy no matter what he did with it. He had stubble, itchy, irritating, ugly stubble.

A true smile had yet to grace Mark's face, as he never had a reason to give one.

Until Matthew Patrick came into his life.

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Starting up the car, anxiety flared up in Mark's body. He was going to Matthew's house, with Nathan and Sean there with him. He was going to the house dressed in a black skirt that went to his knees. His pastel pink sweatshirt going down below the waist of the skirt.

He looked pretty, but he wasn't sure how they would react.

Matthew knew he dressed like this, he had known for a few years now. Whenever the brunette's parents were out of town, Mark would stay over at his house and dress as femininely as he possibly could. Matthew did nothing but support him, constantly supporting him and letting him use his straight razor.

He felt truly beautiful whenever in Matthew's presence.

Was it okay to feel that way?

Of course he was allowed to feel that way. Even if he had a soulmate, he could love other people. However, it wasn't right to say he was in love with Matthew. Did Mark absolutely adore Matthew and love him with all his heart? Yes. Was he in love with him, did he have a desire to marry him and get told everyday for the rest of his life that he was beautiful?

Mark blinked a few times. Was he in love with Matthew? No, he couldn't be. He had a soulmate, and even if he didn't love Sean, Sean didn't know he could love someone else.

He had to stay with Sean, and maybe he could discuss something with Matthew. The brunette was never one to stick with one thing forever, hopefully he was the same way with Nathan. Perhaps they could work out a deal, or something.

"No, what am I saying?" he muttered to himself, getting out of his car and hopping up the porch stairs. He took out his own key to Matthew's house, opening the door and closing it before heading upstairs to his best friend's bedroom.

Mark bit back the urge to run away when he saw Matthew sitting on Nathan's lap, a leg on either side of him. He was playing with his soulmate's ebony hair, giggling whenever strands that he messed with stood up while others curled. Some even fell flat and Matthew was barely able to contain himself when that happened.

Sean was on Matthew's office chair, blue eyes going from an odd cloud of emotions that Mark couldn't figure out to pure happiness when he saw his soulmate.

"Mark's here," his voice was soft, but now that he wasn't crying Mark could pick up the Irish accent.

"Hi," he weakly put a hand up, wrapping his arms around himself soon afterwards. He nearly forgot that he was wearing a skirt in the presence of two strangers.

"Nice skirt," there wasn't any teasing in Nathan's voice. It was like he was stating a fact, the fact that Mark was wearing a skirt and it looked nice on him. Matthew seemed proud that Nathan was quickly accepting of his best friend, giving him a kiss on the cheek almost like a prize.

"Thank you," Mark bowed his head, walking towards Sean, "hey."

"How the fuck did I get so lucky- oh, hey Mark!" the Irish teenager had never been happier. Mark Fischbach was his soulmate! His! He ignored the way that Mark looked at Matthew as they spoke.

He tried to ignore the way Mark stared at Matthew as the spoke.

He saw and Nathan saw way Mark was so obviously in love with Matthew.

So Nathan wrapped his arms around his soulmate, letting the taller brunette nuzzle his face into his neck. Matthew was his.

Not Mark's.

His boyfriend.

His soulmate.

And if Mark had a problem with that, he had an even bigger thing coming to him.

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