his boy // newtmas & dylmas oneshots

soulmate au ~ newtmas

The fairy lights over the shelves cast pretty shadows on the walls and paint pots. Paintings on the walls were so realistic they could be photographs; flowers swaying in the breeze and sparkling eyes and running rivers. The beautiful crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling had dim bulbs in it, but the studio was very bright inside. It had lots of windows, and skylights, and Thomas sat near one of them as he finished the painting he was working on.

It was of a clear sky. He loved to paint skies, because they were endless. There was no land, only shades of blue spread across the canvas. The table next to his easel held bottles of paint; a few shades of blue, silver and white, of which the last two would become his clouds. It was silent in the store except for the sounds of birds and the city coming through an open window. The smell of paint hung in the air, one that he was so used to he didn't register it.

The doorbell jingled as a customer came in, and Thomas took a brief look. A boy around his age was wandering, looking at all of the paintings on the walls. He was pale and tall with dirty blond hair, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets and a leather jacket despite the spring warmth.

Thomas could only see his profile but he thought he was cute anyway, and a small little shiver ran down his spine. He mentally scolded himself; you aren't supposed to think that way about anyone other than your soulmate. You never knew when you were gonna meet, and so Thomas always kept his hopes up. He turned back to his canvas before his glance became staring and painted small strokes of a darker blue where a cloud would sit later.

"Excuse me?" The boy's voice was low and British, and sounded like maple syrup.

Thomas looked up and then both boys gasped. They had matching marks of dark blue paint on their cheeks just under their right eyes. Thomas was struck dumb, and the other boy scrambled to take off his leather jacket so they were both in t-shirts. They had all the same splotches of paint on their arms, and the same little swirls Thomas had painted on his hand earlier when he was bored.

Thomas felt like he was gonna cry, and swallowed hard. This boy, this beautiful blond boy with warm dark eyes and a shocked look on his pretty face was his. Despite the fact that he felt almost numb, he managed to choke out a whisper. "Uhm, hi."

The boy reached out a paint-covered hand and brushed his thumb over the blue on Thomas' cheek. Thomas watched as it spread across the boy's cheek as well, out of breath and in awe. His touch felt so good, so so insanely good and he leaned into it. He was honestly glad Teresa made him cover her shift.

"You're real," the boy said at last, his hand still cupping Thomas' cheek.

"I guess I am real. No, I'm Thomas. I am a real person though, if I wasn't then that'd be quite sad for you, I think, to have a not person as your person... sorry, I get rambly sometimes," Thomas blushed a deep crimson when he realized what he'd said, but the boy still stared like he'd seen the best thing in the world.