It happens differently for everyone. All the ways to find your soulmate. A mark that lets on as to where they'll first touch you, bursting into a million colours when they do. Initials inked onto your skin. Or a hobby, something that symbolises them. Different for each person.
Which leads us to the predicament that two pairs of friends found themselves in at this time. Both complete opposites, in every sense of the word. One group consisting of a happy, carefree poet with a love for flowers and a cynical artist who didn't love much. The others, an outspoken man that would never fail to turn up to a party and an idealist, who claimed his only love would always be France. They just so happened to meet and their lives changed for the better.
It all happened when the second pair walked into their usual cafe (the former having to listen to his friend go on about the stain, now on the inside of his wrist). The first pair were sat at a small table int he corner, the artist braiding his friends long, black hair. The poet in question always seemed happy, but had one secret, he could not find his soulmate, as he had no mark. Little did he know, it was painfully obvious.
Enjolras and Courfeyrac (that was the second pair), sat at their usual table to wait for the other friend that always joined them. Both however, couldn't help but be distracted by the two newcomers in the corner of the room. Half way through braiding Jehan's (the poet) hair, Grantaire (the artist) felt a sharp, burning pain in his wrist. He knew what it meant, his soulmate was close.
For Courfeyrac, it all happened so fast. He was listening to his friend, Enjolras, talk on and on about the green paint splatter that had appeared on his wrist earlier that day. He was bored. Escape came in the form of one of the newcomers calling him over. He thought it would be something fun, but the man just wanted him to hold onto his friends half done plait, whilst he checked something. That turned out to be the best decision he ever made. Almost as soon as he touched this boys hair, flowers and vines of various colours began to spiral up his arms, the pictures, settling into his skin. A second later, after hearing a shrill scream and a crash, Jehan turned around to find the stranger on the floor and that his hair had now changed colour. In the next moment, they were both on the floor, hugging each other.
For the other two, it was a completely different story. After Courfeyrac had left the table, Enjolras started panicking more than he had been before. It was all because of that stupid green stain on his wrist. His mood did not improve when the shady looking friend of Courfeyrac's apparent 'soulmate' sat at the same table as him. The man did seem to be irritated by something. Enjolras said and did nothing, that was until it got too annoying. On instinct, he lashed out and grabbed the mans wrist (the one that seemed to be irritating him). He could only glimpse a red stain, before it disappeared. Both felt burning sensations, and upon turning their wrists over, discovered that the red and green colours were now intertwined. A scream rang through the cafe for the second time that day.
And so two new pairs of soulmates were founded.
