Up in Smoke (Soulmate AU)

More than just a crush.

It was a feeling he had never felt before. Never like this.

Sure he had crushes. A young, hormonal teen boy, with a tendency to feel a bit more strongly about things than he should've ~ It was inevitable. He was emotional. He paid too much attention to things. And maybe he'd go as far as saying he was a little touch starved. And with a concoction like that, disasters of swain and beloved could only be expected naturally in his young life. A quirkless young boy who until recently seemed a little socially inept, neighboring the bright and explosive glory of a boy meant for greatness. He had fallen short too many times to count.

Time and time again, he had fallen for the sweetest girl in the sandbox. Only to watch her throw herself into the arms of his oldest friend. (Only to watch her be thrown right back of course.)

He envied him. How easy it was for him. How the birds always flocked his way, shitting on the poor boy in the process. He had always worked so hard ~ Even now, as he wield the power of his greatest hero- of the greatest hero, he found himself pummeled under a weight. A cursed title:

Plain looking.

"I love your freckles."

The compliment caught him off guard, he thought maybe he hadn't heard her right. "What?"

"Your freckles." She repeated softly. "They're like stars. You could even find little constellations in them if you look hard enough."

Embers igniting forest fires under his skin, he was sure the blood would boil through the flesh in his cheeks. "I um.."

"They're honestly quite distracting." She giggled. "So far I've found two butterflies and a flower- wait," She leaned in a little bit closer, the faint smell of roasted cinnamon and vanilla beans kissing the insides of his nose. "Make that three. Three butterflies and a flower."

He honestly didn't know what to do with himself.

She was just so.....pink.

That's what he saw when he thought of her.

Pink. Gentle fuchsias that bled into the sky as the sun rose. Roseate stains that littered the ocean's scalp as it rippled. He let the tide pull him in as he swallowed the water. His last moments spent underneath his eyelids. Gazing at the purple stems that crawled up his skin; the sun rays leaving him in a bubble gum bliss.

This was more than just a crush. This was a need.

And he was sure, certain even, that if he was one of those lucky few destined by the wrist for another, she would have been there, waiting on the other side of that clock.

But instead it was him. It was always him.

It had to have been a mistake. There were too many blunders and missteps in our evolutionary history to rule out that it wasn't. Cancers, pathogens, blood-born illnesses - Screw ups without fault or reasoning other than that the big guy upstairs should probably invest in a new management team.

Their wrists were wrong and deep down he and her both new that.

She had bloomed like a flower since the two of them had become acquainted. Soprano whispers that curved like lilies became brilliant lilacs as she spoke. Meek smirks now toothy grins, lip bitten smiles routine as they talked to one another. She had blossomed and so had he.

He felt confident in the way he spoke to her. Never afraid his jokes would fall flat when he told them (Even if they were a little corny.) Conversations he sparked ignited as glimmering fireworks that ended in kaleidoscopic finales ~ he could talk to her until his lungs faltered if given the opportunity.