Star Cross Lovers

The Southern Boy

It's said that on your eighteenth birthday you will receive the most important gift of all, your soul mates name.

The first one to receive this gift was a southern boy who was away from home at the time. He was walking home, well to his Aunt's house that is, when it happened.

Leonard McCoy was cursing under his breath as he pulled his coat tighter around himself. He hated winter, he hated snow, and he hated his birthday. And all three were happening at the same time, just his luck. The snow was falling gently to the ground as he trudged through what was about a foot of snow by now.

He sniffed as he shivered. "Damn this cold..." he muttered with chattering teeth.

The bitter teen looked at his watch, God it was nearly 8pm. He sighed in relief as he walked with a sad smile.

'Maybe I'll get lucky and be the only one in the universe to not get a soul mate.' He thought.

He chucked sadly as he looked up to the whitish gray cloud cover sky as he thought,

'Someone'll be upset, since it's a two way street. At least they would be spared my miserable ass.' He won't have to worry about wrecking their life like he was doing his own.

He continued to walk along the street lights when he felt a slight burning sensation on his right wrist. He thought nothing of it really, it could just be the cold getting to him a little bit. The further he walked, the hotter and more irritating his wrist became.

After a few moments, the pain got so intense that he stopped in his tracks and ripped his glove off. Sliding his coat sleeve up, he was blinded by two bright lights shining from the soft skin of his wrist.

The first lettering was a bright yellow, almost like the sun rising in the morning. The second s an almost neon green, like a vat of acid. The lights danced across his wrist with a certain fluidity, carving out different letters.

The annoying burning sensation turned into a white-hot, searing, pain. It caused him to drop to his knees right there in the snow. He cursed. It felt like the name was being branded into his bones themselves.

Leonard fell onto his side in the dirty snowbank, dangerously close to the road side. One would think the cold would help his problem but it didn't. As Leonard curled into a ball holding his wrist against his chest, he couldn't help but let a choked sob fall from his lips. The pain reached its highest peak and he almost passed out from the agony.

The yellow and green glowed its brightest showing its task was complete, as the last letters formed on both names. It illuminated every surface around Leonard. Because of it, the snow almost blinded him. The light slowly faded into an inky black cursive that will forever stain his skin. The pain left so suddenly, he lost his breath for a moment. It was as if it never existed in the first place. For a brief moment, he'd wondered if he'd imagined it.

Slowly but surely he sat up shivering not only from the cold, but also from the ghost like pain he only felt moments ago. He moved his arm and saw what looked like the strangest name. This poor fellow.

"What the..?" The southern boy asked no one breathlessly, "Who the hell names their kid Spock James?"