Brendan Murray: The Collection

Soulmates

A/N:
Hi! Welcome to my very first Brendan Murray fanfiction.

This first one shot would be a bit fast paced. Brendan wouldn't be always mentioned or wouldn't be always part of the scene.

This fic is written in third person and is on the female lead's point of view. Along the way, you would notice that there is no concrete description on how she looks like. Her name wouldn't also be mentioned. I intended to write it that way. Let your imaginations run wild on how she would look like.

You might find the ending unsatisfying but I would very much want this to stick to reality as much as I can. Not ever story ends with a kiss or the characters having sex. That doesn't happen in real life.

And feel free to tell me if I misspelled any word or my grammar needs correcting.

-Meg
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"Soulmates"
The Soulmate AU
Where soulmates have matching tattoos or marks

Soulmates, the word never had an effect on her like how it affected the others. Being tied down to someone you barely know just because your souls are bound together by an unknown force seems laughable. To hope that one day you'll meet the one and have the happily ever after everyone seem to want. All of it doesn't sit quite well with her and she has no clue why.

Or maybe she does exactly know the reason why but would not admit it out loud.

It was the morning of her eighteenth birthday when she stumbled out of her bathroom, the skin in between her shoulder blades seared like she is being burned alive. She watched with terrified awe as thin jet black lines slowly appeared against her skin through the mirror. Eyes wide, she watched as the lines curved and slowly took form of a rose with a hand written 'always' as its stem.

The black thin lines of the rose becoming a great contrast on her pale skin.

She stared at it with wide panicked eyes. She couldn't deny that her mark is beautiful but just the thought of being branded to be a stranger's possession made her sick.

Tears prickled on the corners of her eyes, she turned away and numbly went through her daily routine.

She badly wanted to feel that indescribable feeling everyone was talking about but all she had felt was apprehension and mild disgust. She would never voice it out but she was disgusted with herself because somewhere out there was her other half, her soulmate, but here she is, not wanting to be tied down to them.

Nineteen was the age where she never thought a mark so similar to hers had the ability to illicit pain.

They were neither childhood friends nor neighbours who played together during the summer. But they became friends while they were young. He was a year older yet their age difference had not hindered them to be friends.

Secondary school had became more bearable because of him.

It was purely accidental when she saw the first glimpse of the familiar black thin line on a skin that wasn't hers. She had stumbled out of her room into the kitchen one early morning in the flat she shared with her childhood best friend, Josh Grey, when there he was, standing in nothing but sweats, waiting for the water to boil.

A loud gasp slipped out of her lips as she drank in the same rose tattoo on the middle of his shoulders. Instinctively, she reached out for her own as realisation hit her. The boy - no, man- in question whirled around, his dark green eyes wide and sheepish.