heaven

Four hours.

Well, now it reads three hours, fifty-nine minutes, fifty-nine seconds. Donghyuck stares at his wrist absentmindedly, his right thumb brushing over the numbers.

“Lucky,” next to him, his friend, Jeno, flashes him his wrist. It reads 1 year, 3 months, 28 days. Jeno’s countdown hasn’t hit the smaller values yet.

Donghyuck doesn’t reply. He continues staring at his wrist, feeling the hard thumps of his heart against his ribcage in his chest. Less than four hours to go.

Should he freshen up? Put on more impressive clothes? He glances down at his outfit, wanting to laugh at himself. He’s wearing a pair of old, ripped jeans, paired with a faded blue hoodie. His hair is a mess; he knows it.

His soulmate wouldn’t be impressed. Not in the least bit.

Jeno notices the other boy’s restlessness, and gives him a not-so-helpful pat on the shoulder. An image crosses Donghyuck’s mind — standing up and leaving, leaving Jeno behind without any explanation. He shakes it off, knowing that Jeno means well; he was just awkward. After all, Donghyuck’s mostly all smiles and laughter, rarely anything else. As much as he’d like to, he can’t blame Jeno for not knowing how to help.

Three hours, thirty-four minutes, eighteen seconds.

He finally realises he’s been sitting in the same spot on the park bench, glancing from the trees to his wrist, then back to the birds on the grey pathway, then back to his wrist once more, for close to half an hour.

It definitely doesn’t help that Jeno hasn’t said anything either. His friend’s been glued to his phone since they first got there.

Donghyuck’s tongue darts out to lick his lips. He has to move. He can’t sit down on the brown thing and play with his fingers any longer.

He stands up, causing Jeno to look up from his device and shoot him a curious look.

“I- uh,” the boy shifts his weight from one foot to another, his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck. “I get the feeling my soulmate wants to meet me alone.”

Jeno thinks about it for a while before shrugging. “Good luck.”

Donghyuck manages a slight nod before he’s walking away from the bench, checking the numbers on his wrist again.

Three hours, thirty-two minutes, forty seconds.

Two hours, fifteen minutes, fifty-seven seconds.

He spent the past hour or so walking around aimlessly, not bothering to take note of where exactly he was going. He just walked towards whatever interested him.

Donghyuck swallows, his mouth dry.

What will his soulmate look like? Where exactly will he meet his soulmate? Why would his soulmate be there? Who is his soulmate?

Now he’s standing outside a café, watching blankly through the window, at the couples sat across each other by the small, round tables. He spots one feeding each other cake; another one taking photos of each other, and the last one he sees are in the midst of sharing a large milkshake.

Will that be him and his soulmate?

Suddenly, a chill runs down Donghyuck’s spine as he recalls the horror stories he’s heard. Some unlucky people get soulmates who already have another; some relationships, he was told, simply don’t work out. Others include a person’s countdown reaching the six zeros with no signs of a soulmate.

One of the employees of the café spot him standing outside the window, and Donghyuck starts walking away, his hands clammy.

Two hours, one minute, twenty-five seconds.

His eyes snap open at the feeling of heavy raindrops falling on his hair, his shoulders, everywhere.

Crap!

He somehow managed to fall asleep, sitting on the steps leading towards a closed library.

Quickly, Donghyuck ducks his head and runs in the opposite direction, towards a bus stop. He’s suddenly extremely thankful that the roads in the area are small.

The bus stop is almost empty, being in the middle of nowhere, except one or two people waiting for the bus. A middle school student plops himself down on one of the benches, his hair glistening with water droplets, his uniform soaked. Donghyuck stifles a laugh at the sight.

Then it occurs to him why exactly he was in the middle of nowhere.

Anxiously, he turns his wrist over.

Zero hours, three minutes, forty-one seconds.

A storm of worries rush through his head, one of them being, how the hell did he manage to sleep so long on those hard, marble steps?

The second one being, how the heck is he supposed to give his soulmate a good first impression?

The third one being, holy shit, he only has three minutes left.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and suddenly he feels so cold. It could be a sudden gust of wind, or his own jitters. Donghyuck’s not very sure.

The boy pulls his phone out, sighing as he reads the words on screen.

It’s Mark, harassing him for an answer. He shuts the phone off before hiding it back in his pocket, trying to aggressively rub his hair dry using his own hands. Unfortunately, it fails miserably, what with his hands being wet from both his sweat and the rain.

Now he moves on to straighten his hoodie, wringing the excess water from the material. He pays no attention to his countdown forming another two zeros.

00:00:56

His hands are soaked. Donghyuck tries to wipe them on his jeans, but it has no effect, considering how the jeans have already turned a darker colour. The storm gets heavier, and a few water droplets on the ground rebound to hit his ankles.

00:00:29

He refuses to check the numbers on his wrist, so he rolls the sleeve of his hoodie down, covering the black ink. He doesn’t know why but he’s suddenly tingling all over, his fingers going cold. He tries to inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. His eyes are glued to his shoes, watching as the rain splashes onto them, slowly soaking his socks and feet.

00:00:00

A faint but present beep goes off in his ears. Donghyuck looks up.

Then he sees you; standing right before him, giving him a look of concern.

“Are you okay?” you ask, your eyes running up and down his drenched body.

Donghyuck can’t say a thing. His mind draws a blank. His stomach does flips.

The beep shuts off, and he knows.

All too quickly, a smile is finding his way onto his features. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be, when I just met my soulmate?”

You gnaw on your lower lip, something Donghyuck immediately finds cute.

Red spreads from your neck all the way to your ears, and the boy feels the butterflies in his stomach.

“I wanted to ask if you’d like to share my umbrella,” you murmur, eyes on your shoes as you wiggle the small thing in your hand. “You don’t seem like you’re waiting for a bus.”

Boldly, Donghyuck takes your free hand.

Relief courses through his being, followed by a new-found excitement, and his smile widens to a grin.