Are You The One?

Written by: CherryDrug

Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn doesn't belong to us. If it did, we would have shipped anybody with everybody, and the series wouldn't be as dead as it was now. Thank freaking sprite for fan fiction having not died yet.

Rating: T-rated, 'cause we're still a bunch of pussies who can't put on their big girl panties and publish a smutty chapter

Genre: *slaps every genre here*

Characters: Everybody. Duh

Summary: It has been said long ago that actions speak louder than words ever could; however, when you live in a world where the first thing your soulmate says to you is etched upon your skin—well, suffice to say, actions don't even hold a candle to how important words can be.

Pairing(s) (for this chapter):?/?

Warnings: Alternate Universe where people bear soul-identifying marks; yaoi AKA boy x boy in the future; yuri AKA girl x girl; All27; drabble series

CHAPTER 22

Unfortunate happenstances that really happen in this universe.

The first time he'd met his soulmate was out of pure, utter luck that wasn't really luck at all.

He'd been strolling down the streets, plastic bags filled to the brim with groceries, and the intent to arrive home as soon as he could in his head. The weather that day was just right; not too warm nor too cold; in fact, it was just right, so he hadn't really expected anything out of his ordinary routine would happen.

And then she came—grasping his shoulder to catch his attention, and the first thing he'd registered about her had been her eyes—wide and bright with vibrancy, framed by long eyelashes, and its hue a pretty golden color that partnered well with his carmine-colored ones that matched the leaves during Autumn—and he felt as if the breath had been sucked right out of his lungs when she gave him a brilliant smile.

"You should be more careful of your things," the girl told him, yet there was nothing similar to reprimanding in her tone. "You're lucky that I saw this fall right out of your pocket," she said with a giggle as she handed his dropped wallet to him.

All he could do was gape at her, because those words were the very same ones that were wrapped around his bicep in 'girly colors' as he irately described them.

But now—now, there was certainly nothing irritating about them, with his soulmate(?) standing right in front of him.

Yet, he couldn't find himself to utter his words to her, and when he'd finally mustered the courage to speak, she'd already turned around to run back to her family who'd called for her.

He should've ran after her, grasped her shoulder as she'd did to him, and told her that she was his—but it felt as if the soles of his shoes had grown roots that planted him to the very ground he was currently standing on, and all he could do was wordlessly reach out a hand for her, his throat tight with so many feelings.

But one feeling stood out starkly from the others as he watched her disappear into the crowd of natives and foreigners:

Regret.

Word Count: 560 words.

Wonder who the two are, ne?