#admin lizzie

You waited, and like always, you had a quick response. A second, slightly larger heart was etched alongside it from your soulmate’s end. Perfectly, artistically, formed. It was his reply. An assurance that he felt the same way.

You felt a flutter in your real heart. You hoped you would never stop being this moved by even the smallest of moment between you. When the bell rang to end the lesson, you barely noticed. 

No one would blame you though. There was nothing quite so exciting as signs of a link with a soulmate. Especially when you hadn’t met one another yet, and your joined skins were your only communication. 

Although, you and your soulmate knew a few things about each other already.

In most nations, when babies were born, it was common for parents to seek the basic soulmate info their child might want when they were older. A pen with ink safe for newborn skin was owned by most hospitals. It was used to write  soulmate? across the baby’s forehead. If the soulmate was already born, their parents would see the mark appear, and they would send a reply saying yes, then possibly exchange more info. If the soulmate was not born yet, it was a matter of waiting until the word soulmate? appeared, sent from the other end. 

Because of this tradition, in your early years, your parents and your soulmates’ parents had already been in contact. You knew he was Korean. You knew his name was Kim Mingyu. You knew he was a boy. You knew his birthday. 

Those were the only details that hospitals and parents traditionally bothered to exchange. They left the rest to the kids. You knew in some cultures the parents would be taking the info they got to consult astrologists or religious leaders for more insight. But that was the extent of it. 

In the largely globalized world of the modern age, it was taboo in most countries for parents to interfere by continuing communications across their infants’ skin. It was considered more organic to let the children establish ties as they grew up. They could decide for themselves if they wanted to know more before meeting one another. You and your soulmate had long ago come to an agreement that you wanted to do most of your discovering in person, whenever the universe turned its destined pages and bound your paths together. 

You were happy knowing one another’s names, and had spent all your lives working to know each other’s languages too. You could tell he’d become quite good with yours because of the ease he wrote down the occasional thing he wanted to remember- like a song title or a movie. And you knew he’d seen your abilities with Korean as well. 

The other things you’d discovered about him intrigued you beyond belief. He seemed crazily talented. Almost unfairly talented.  

His talents came through in bits and pieces throughout your childhood, when he was bored during what must have been the Korean school day. It was pretty common in your world for people to draw on their own skin. Who didn’t like the idea of a little extra communication with their soulmate? So you would watch doodles paint patterns on your arms, and see how good Mingyu was at art - from little geometric designs to quirky cartoon figures, some of which you recognised, and some which (after a little Googling) introduced you to comic books he must have enjoyed. 

There were also the recipes. They were less common, and he only seemed to make those notes if he had no other means to record his food ideas. They made your heart flutter more than anything else, because your soulmate could apparently cook, and cook well at that. 

He would scrawl notes to himself on the bare skin of his forearm: ideas about ingredients, or spice combos. One time, when you were only about twelve years old, he wrote out a whole recipe in a quick scrawl, like he was trying to get it noted down quickly to try at home later. Interest raised, you also decided to try it as well. Only problem was, his handwriting was hard to read from his rush to get it all written. After squinting at it for a while, you circled a couple of things on your own arm, and wrote little question marks beside it, hoping he would see, and clarify for you. 

Sure enough, the recipe began to rewrite itself out on your other arm. It was in someone elses hand-writing this time, because using his non-dominant right hand would have been even messier. You wondered who was writing it, thinking fondly of your soulmate asking for their help.

Thanks, you wrote under it, adding a little heart.

He drew a returning heart, and, most likely, returned to cooking.

Ever since then, that had been your routine. A small heart when you wanted to express affection, and an answering heart from the other person.

You started to thank each other when you accidentally provided a good recommendation for a song, or a movie, and as time passed, you started to deliberately write things you wanted to share. 

When you stumbled across a cartoon with a character you’d seen him doodle before, you always let him know what you thought. When his friends all watched a movie he knew you’d seen before, he would tell you if he’d enjoyed it. 

It was such a simple way to be connected, but it warmed your heart each time.

-

When your soulmate reached his late teenage years, he must have started getting into performing, because occasionally some truly dramatic stage make up looks would appear on your face that you were pretty sure he couldn’t be for day to day events. Sometimes, they were embarrassing - appearing at times you did not want to have that intense of a smoky eye. Sometimes, they were really perfectly timed - you were delighted at the seemingly professional level of quality you were given for free through your soulmate. 

As well as the make up, the occasional scrawls your soulmate added to the back of his hand sometimes looked like song lyrics. Usually just a few short bars, in messier than normal handwriting that indicated to you he must have had to jot them down quickly. It added to your theory that he was interested in performing. 

You wondered if he was passionate enough about performing to put song covers online or something. Perhaps you might have even glimpsed his face before around Youtube. The thought made you grin, but you would have no way of knowing for sure until you met him.

One of the nicest surprises came to you one day when you were listening to music on Spotify- a decent mix of English songs and K-pop (which you’d been listening to for a long time since you knew the language anyway.) You were playing random playlists you found, seeking new music, and then suddenly one of the songs played some rap bars you definitely recognized. You checked the song title - 기대 - and the group name - Seventeen. And you added it instantly to your library. 

You were sure your soulmate must have sung the song before, and as always when you discovered a little connection like that, the moment of recognition was thrilling.

You picked up a pen, and then wrote along your arm.

Hi Mingyu, I just listened to 기대  by Seventeen!

There was a pause much longer than usual before you got any response. You went about your day with the letters on your arm, wondering when he would write something back. Usually his replies were quick. But it was when you were getting ready for bed that he finally wrote back.

Sorry it took me so long to reply. 

You frowned in confusion, but more letters began to appear.

Did you like the song? Did you watch a performance? Do you know anything about Seventeen? Did you look them up?

It was an odd series of questions. 

I didn’t watch anything, you responded, and I haven’t looked them up. Should I have?

You waited, feeling very anxious suddenly, like you had done something wrong. Mingyu seemed sharper and more upset than usual. You watched his questions wash off your arm as he removed them to make room to write more, and you quickly went to your bathroom sink to wash your side of the conversation away as well.

On the blank slate, Mingyu wrote:

No! Don’t look them up! Promise me you won’t. 

How strange... 

You stared at the request for a long time.

Okay. You wrote. I promise. 

You waited for more explanation, but he wrote nothing else for a long time. You picked up your pen again, hesitated, and added:

I liked the song though. Can I still listen to it?

Mingyu drew two adorable hearts first, and wrote: Of course you can. I don’t want to order you around, I’m sorry, it’s just important to me that you don’t look up that group. Feel free to listen to the song though.

Another pause.

What did you like about it?

You laughed a little.

It’s really nice! There’s kind of a soothing but cool style to it. Even the way it starts off it amazing. I think the voices have a kind of story telling vibe to them. 

You waited for his response.

I like that too. He wrote. And then he put a few more hearts, and said goodnight. You both washed off your arms and you went to bed.

You had no idea what was going on, but you wanted to respect his wishes and his boundaries, so you didn’t press the issue. You simply let it go. But you listened to 기대 almost every day for a while after, and you especially loved the lines that you remembered Mingyu had written on his arm.

- 

One year after the 기대 incident, your world changes for ever.

You knock on your best friend’s front door, smiling at the pink balloons tied on the letter box and around the doorway. Her little sister yanks the door open, a huge grin on her face.

“Welcome, Y/N!” she yells happily. “It’s my birthday!”

“I know, sweetie,” you smile back at her, handing her the gift in your hands, and watching her squeal with excitement, shaking it violently in her hands. “I can’t believe you’re six years old already! I’m here to help set up the party.”

She guides you through to the back garden, chattering happily about how all her class is coming to join the fun. You respond with the expected enthusiasm, and gasp in amazement when you walk out onto the decorated back lawn. Your best friend waves you over as soon as she sees you.

“Thanks again for offering to help with the party!” she says. “Can you run the face painting? You only need to do really basic looks. We even have some examples the kids can pick from, so you won’t have to think of any complicated designs yourself.”

You look at the sheet of card she’s holding, with a tiger, butterfly wings, a pirate, and other classic kids’ designs she must have printed off from the internet, and you agree you can do the job.

There’s a bit of time to kill before the actual event begins, so you decide to practice some face painting on yourself. It will get you used to this set of paints and it will probably get the kids more excited when they arrive to see an example of the work on the person painting them.

You pick the tiger, and start by covering your face with orange, then adding stripes where you can see them on the guide, a pink nose, and long black whiskers, turning your face from side to side in the tiny mirror so you can see what you’re doing. When the look is complete, you’re actually pretty pleased with yourself. 

“Looking good, Y/N!” your friend yells out from across the lawn.

“I’ll paint you next?” you offer.

She comes over, pulls out the second chair at the face painting station, and sits down in front of you.

“Can you give me the butterfly?” she requests. 

But as you lift your hand to begin painting her face, you let out a gasp, and freeze, staring at the frantic letters forming across your skin.

Y/N please don’t keep that on! please wash your face now! 

It’s about a hundred times messier than Mingyu’s usual handwriting. He must be freaking out.

“What’s going on?” your friend asks.

In answer, you flip your hand over. Her eyes scan the letters, and her brows raise. 

“Well, go on then! He’s still writing more ‘please’s! Go wash your face!” she says, all but pushing you out of your seat.

Still confused by Mingyu’s urgency, you turn and race toward the house, stopping at the first sink you see, in the kitchen, and slamming on the tap so fast you spray water down your front. 

You dab haphazardly at your face, the water running orange and black and swirling away down the sink. 

Your skin feels pink from scrubbing when you stop. You stare at the back of your hand again. It’s blank now. He must have washed off his pleading. A single phrase forms, still a little rushed, but you can almost feels his thankfulness in each letter.

Thank you so much. I’ll explain later.

And that’s all. 

Mingyu doesn’t try to communicate again until the party ends. You’re helping to clean up, chucking paper cups empty of coca cola into a rubbish bag. Your best friend’s little sister, the birthday girl, is napping on a couch inside, totally tired after the day’s events.

As you reach down to pick up the next cup, you see new writing appear on your arm. You sit down right there on the grass, watching it appear. 

So I know you listen to KPop, which means you’ll probably hear about this soon enough. So I’ll tell you first... something happened today. And it made me decide I want to meet you. Is that okay?

You stare at the words in confusion. But all the times you’ve talked, Mingyu has been a little long winded when explaining things, so you’re sure you’ll understand eventually. 

You find a pen, and write back... That’s okay. 

Good. Says Mingyu. Did you know KCon LA was this week?

Yeah

Well I’m at KCon LA right now. And this thing happened. And I know I need to see you now. Send me your address, please. I have enough to pay for all my transport, no matter how far away you are. I’m taking a break from work anyway. I have to find you. Please?

You’re shaking by the time you finish reading his excited words. Something really dramatic must have happened for him to change his mind like this... to want to meet you right away no matter what. 

You could never refuse him. You write out your home address in careful letters on your arm. 

Thank you. Mingyu writes. And while I’m on my way... you can look my name up online. And then

He pauses for a minute or so. 

watch the video from this link www.youtube.com/watch?v=7PrXNl05CWM. He takes his time getting every number of the link right, and then continues. It’s embarrassing, but when you watch it, you’ll understand. I’ll see you as soon as possible. 

Okay, Mingyu. I’ll see you soon. You write back.

You’re almost afraid to do everything he’s asked. It seems so dramatic. But before panic can take over, you see one more tiny shape form. A single inky heart. 

And you smile. 

You explain to your friend, head home, open your laptop, and type Kim Mingyu into Google. The first result is a KPop profile; facts and Profile for MinGyu, member of thirteen member Korean boygroup Seventeen. 

One hand over your mouth in shock, you click through and quickly skip past the picture (you’re not ready for that) to read what the profile says, trying to make the information sink in. You read facts you already knew about your soulmate - name: Kim Mingyu, born: 06 April 1997, hometown: Anyang, South Korea - along with brand new information - position: lead rapper, height: 187cm - and you try to piece it all together with your reality. 

Your mind flashes back to that day when you listened to your first Seventeen song and he asked you not to look up anything more about that group. When you were so charmed by the rapping. The smooth storytelling style to the flow of those lyrics...

And you scroll back up to the photo. You let out a little gasp. He’s beautiful. 

It takes a moment for that to feel real as well. But something about the photo they’ve chosen for the profile helps you. He’s impossibly handsome, of course, but he somehow manages to fit in with the picture of Mingyu you had in your mind, because he has a dorky pose, pointing a finger at the screen. It makes him feel more real. More human. More yours...

And then that comforting feeling fades in and out rapidly when you switch straight to Google images and spend about an hour scrolling through photos of your stunning, gorgeous, sexy soulmate. Your head is spinning by the end of it. In some photos, you can see that personality you’ve been getting to know. The sweetness, the slight foolish charm of him, the talents in art that seems to translate to his fashion sense as well, the shots of him cooking... but at the same time, he looks more beautiful than you dared let yourself imagine. 

Your favourite thing is spotting bits of writing on his arms. Your writing. And a whole ton of little hearts.

Then you type out his Youtube link, that he spent so long writing out properly to make sure you would watch the right video. It’s only hours old. A performance  MNet uploaded of Seventeen at KCon earlier that same day. 

You watch as the boys, all thirteen of them, come out on stage and begin their song. But about halfway through, their expressions start to change when they glance at Mingyu, and when the camera comes in closer, you see your soulmate’s face has turned orange. Then the black stripes begin to form. The boys are faltering in their dance steps now, not sure if they should continue. 

Mingyu looks annoyed, like he can’t understand why their performance is falling apart.

Then he catches sight of himself on the monitors. And his jaw drops. And he freezes.

You must have been just finishing off your face paint at that time, because the tiger is nearly completely there. The pink nose adds a hilarious softness to Mingyu’s horrified expression. The crowd is laughing, obviously quite charmed by the display, and amused by its poor timing so much that they don’t mind it messing up the planned show. But Mingyu seems upset by it... as do some of his friends, who must have worked so hard getting ready for this day.

On go the tiger whiskers, long and slightly curved, forming one by one around that lovely nose. None of the boys are moving now. The close up camera is fixed on Mingyu. 

The member with the round cheeks steps forward suddenly, saying something funny about Soulmates into the microphone. It makes the rest of the members swirl into action. Some of them crowd around Mingyu, and two with concerned expressions usher him from the stage. The round cheeked one keeps speaking, clearly taking charge of the damage control. 

“Thank you, Jeonghan and The8, please take care of Mingyu and return quickly!” 

Two more of the boys seem to shake themselves from their surprise as the round-cheeked one beckons them forward, and they start speaking in fluent English to the crowd. They say they’ll move on to their unit performances now, and leave Hip Hop team for last so Mingyu can come back with his face paint gone... and that’s it.

That’s the end of the video. 

You can see the recommended next clip is for Seventeen’s other performances, so you know they must have finished as they planned. And since you washed off the face paint fast, you know Mingyu must have returned in time for his performance. But you feel bad for him anyway. He must have been upset to have that happened in front of a whole audience...

You scroll the Youtube comments for a bit. People are amused, or feeling sorry for him, or intrigued by any sign of a soulmate, or surprised that MNet even uploaded the interrupted performance (though you’re sure they’re delighted by its entertainment factor... the clip already has a ridiculously high number of views.)

And after that, it all feels too much for you. The truth is too intense. You close your laptop and go to find your family, so you can tell them what’s happened and get ready for your visitor. 

The thought makes you smile again. A little happy tremble goes through you. You get to meet your soulmate soon... You get to meet Mingyu.

- 

He knocks timidly on the door when he arrives, and you fly to answer it, barely noticing each step as your feet swallow up all the space between you until all that remains is your front door.

You take a deep breath, hand on the handle, and fling it open.

“Mingyu,” you gasp.

There he stands, looking shy and awkward, face graced by a slightly giddy smile he can’t seem to keep down. You find that despite running to meet him, you’re now frozen where you stand. His warm honey eyes scan over you though, skating across the features on your face, shifting down your body, and he looks so happy you might just melt where you stand.

“Hi, Y/N,” he whispers. “Did you look it up?”

You nod. And then words begin to pour out of him, in the same rushed way he writes, a long-winded explanation that makes your heart squeeze with pure affection. 

“I realised after that performance that we were being stupid to wait to meet each other- to hope that the world would throw us together some, even though we were bound to be desperately thinking about one another every second until it happened. Or at least, I thought about you...”

He steps forward, lifts his hands and cradles your face.

“I was always worried about making you a part of my life too soon. I though I had all the time in the world to meet you, and what if I did meet you too soon, and I just messed it all up right away? As if it were possible to ever spend too much time together...”

He laughs, and when you join in, his smile becomes blinding.

“After today I know this is what I want. I want to be with you. I want us to know every detail of each others lives. I want a public, open, happy relationship with you before the eyes of the entire world. I don’t want anyone to see that video and think it was embarrassing. I want it to be the story of how we came together. I want it to be the beginning. Is that what you want?”

He’s so gorgeous, and the two of you are destined, so it’s a surprise to see how nervous he looks. As if you would ever turn him down.

“This is want I want,” you assure him.

The color that you see the most of? The color you seem to see to some level almost all the time? Yellow, amber, gold, the fur of the labrador passing by on the street, a glint of sunset light on a window, citrus fruit laid out in the store, the painted front door of the house across from your own, wedding rings on the fingers of strangers, the adorable rubber-duck raincoat worn by the toddler down the street. Happiness. 

Your soulmate is so quick to joy, so easily cheerful, that it uplifts you even in your darkest days. Just knowing what a happy person he is gives you some happiness of your own.

Of course, he isn’t only happy. No human being on earth can manage that, and naturally negative emotions touch him too. Sometimes that certain shade of purple stress-fear-worry comes filtering through. More frequently, colors will drop to sad blue, popping in to indicate that he might be the kind of person who cries easily, but gets over it fast. 

Even more rarely, you might even see the red that comes, not with excitement and passion, but the specific tint indicating real anger. 

By the end of high school, you’re more than used to the patterns of his moods, very accustomed to which colors you might see as you walk about your every day life. And by that time, you also know some people who have started seeing the world in full color: the longed for moment when they finally touch their soulmate for the very first time. 

Your best friend is one of them. He had a true movie-magic experience of bumping into his soulmate in the middle of the supermarket. Apparently, before the collision, he had been distracted and worried because he had noticed the color popping in the products of the shelves around him was a very sad blue. His soulmate, walking toward him down the isle, had been absorbed in their own sad thoughts. Of course, it was this that caused the blue, and it was this that left both of them thoroughly distracted. 

Since they weren’t paying any attention, they had smashed into each other, crashed to the ground with their groceries spilling around them, and your best friend found himself staring in awe at a garishly bright cereal mascot suddenly bursting into full color in front of his eyes.

It was a very sweet story. And also, though you would never admit it out loud, it was a story that gave you the occasional sad pang of jealousy. You see, you kind of wanted that sort of moment- the sort that turned an ordinary and otherwise embarrassing clumsiness on a normal day into a story to be remembered forever.

-

Seokmin, unsurprisingly, is an absolute hopeless romantic. He thinks about his soulmate a ridiculous number of times in a single day, not only checking in on your moods, but also wondering what colors you can see as a result of his own emotions. He has always taken his responsibility as Seventeen’s “Smile Man”  seriously, and he likes to think his positivity also radiates through to you as much as possible. 

In fact, he knows it’s worked a couple of times. There have been days when all the boys are exhausted at practice, and lately he’s seen nothing but certain shades of green and purple from you feeling sick and exhausted and stressed. It begins to wear down on him; he knows everyone important in his life is having a hard time. 

So he makes the decision to turn it all around. 

He casts aside his own concerns and does everything he can. Considering he’s no where near you, he needs to focus on the others. He works to cheer up his friends, injecting some fun into their practice with some of the usual antics, Seungkwan or Hoshi always willing to help. Soon enough they start to laugh again, and he knows the swelling happy feeling must have come to you through the soulmate connection. Because, as if just knowing he’s happy is enough to ease your own troubles a little, the fainest flashes of bright gold come into his vision, and the sadder colors fade.

It never fails to make his smile even brighter.

There are times he knows he’s faltered with his positive attitude though. Regular stresses and worries of life cause it, but there have been other things to. Like the week that Chan found his soulmate. 

She was the assistant to one of their make-up artists. Chan was sitting in the makeup chair, some pink eye-shadow newly applied by her boss, and she was hovering in front of him to complete the rest of the look. But she was distracted, because her soulmate was feeling an emotion that was making the eye-shadow pop: making her see only the softest shade of pink: a pink that indicated butterflies-in-stomach attraction. 

It was a hard thought to grasp - the idea that your soulmate might be feeling that way about someone else - and she had no idea that the feeling was coming from the boy right in front of her, as a result of her presence.

But then her hand brushed his cheek. And suddenly, without warning, the world exploded into full color.

She gasped, fell backward, and Chan opened his eyes to see her staring at him in amazement, her floral dress very much alight with every imaginable shade.

It had been a ridiculously joyous day at first- the members all celebrated together, full of jokes about the maknae being the first to find a soulmate, the first to see color. The laughter lasted long into the night as they ate a meal together and headed back to the dorms to stay up late talking.

But somewhere during the conversation, when Minghao was making sure Chan knew it was now his job to help him double-check that all his outfits were fashionable in color as well as style, Seokmin’s thoughts drifted. He was already a little more sensitive than usual, running on little sleep, and he felt his spirits plummet. Chan wasn’t that much younger than him really. Almost exactly two years (another February birthday), but it felt like a lot of time. And some irrational part of Seokmin, tied up with his romantic idealism, had always hoped he would be one to find his soulmate early. Maybe even first among the members.

And now it was the maknae?

He tried to shake the feeling off, especially since he was really happy for his friend, and he knew he was being unfair. But the loneliness settled in him for a long while, weeks on end. It was probably the longest time you had ever gone seeing miserable colors more often than any others.

He got over it soon enough, getting used to it, drifting back to normal, and he hoped he never worried you too much. 

-

Your best friend, the one with the supermarket soulmate, is Korean. He’s been listening to KPop for about as long as you’ve known him. You’re kind of used to it all by now, and you definitely enjoy some of it. You have a few of the tracks or the albums he showed you downloaded to your own music libraries.

It’s no surprise at all when you find out that his soulmate is a fan of KPop as well. In fact, it’s almost expected. What isn’t expected is the hilarious rivalry that rises out of their shared interest. 

You see, despite both liking KPop, they have very different taste in the actual music they gravitate toward. For you best friend, the more sugary the music is, the better. He wants sickening cheerfulness, light-hearted moods, and upbeat melodies. His soulmate prefers more intense stuff, with rap or angsty lyrics.

Of course, you quickly get to know the new soulmate. They turn out to be one of the funniest people you’ve ever met, and you thoroughly enjoy their company. You also happen to enjoy a lot of the music they recommend as well, so you get pulled into their joking arguments a lot.

It shocks you, then, when the two of them finally manage to find a band that they both like. 

They tell you about it the second they burst through the door to your new apartment to have dinner with you. 

“They’re called Seventeen!” your best friend says, his face lit up. “They’re so good! And they have a really nice range of stuff, so both of us are happy!”

They play you the music, and you have to agree how amazing it all is. You’re quick to note down the titles of your favorites, especially drawn to one particular singing voice, who your friends inform you belongs to a member with the stage name of Dokyeom. And you’re relieved to have a momentary truce to their bickering, though a little exasperated to find out that a lack of arguments means they become almost exclusively sickeningly sweet.

When they leave at the end of the night, you wrap your arms around yourself after waving goodbye, and let out a long sigh. You head back inside.

Your laptop beckons, so you change into pajamas and curl up in your warm room, plugging your headphones in before you open the lid. Then you hover over the Youtube search bar and type in the word “Seventeen.”

You watch videos for a long time to comfort yourself. Right now, the colors popping on screen are all yellows, and the flush of a rather unsettling romantic-feelings-pink. You’ve seen pink a few times before, since your soulmate seems like the type to get crushes easily. Or to think about romance a lot. But tonight, the sight of that color only increases your loneliness. 

You keep your focus on your screen and try to ignore the world.

You really do like Dokyeom- who you discover is also called Seokmin. You end up searching his name specifically, and find other videos of him singing, or simply goofing around with his fellow group members. Soon enough, he has a soft smile growing on your face. His parts in songs are tear-inducingly-good, and his face is just gorgeous. Not to mention his sense of humor. He’s exactly what you needed tonight.

You fall asleep smiling.

Across the ocean, Seokmin stands up from his seat and stretches, having spent at least an hour in the zone trying to write some romantic lyrics for the next Vocal Team song. He bites his lip when he catches sight of the color pink rising out of Seungkwan’s jumper in front of him, since he has no idea that the emotion was just caused by you discovering him for the first time. 

He has to force himself not to feel lonely. He decides to focus on the fact that his soulmate is happy right now, with the blond of Seungkwan’s hair very visible as well. Considering how sad his soulmate seemed only a little while ago, it’s a good thing they’re feeling happy now...

He’s not going to get jealous... Even if he’s never seen that shade, which hints at such a strong crush, before tonight...

-

When Seventeen announce a tour to your city, there’s no question, you and your friends are definitely attending. As students, you can’t exactly justify buying yourselves full VIP tickets, and you figure this won’t be your last chance to ever meet them, so you can be happy just attending.

The day of the concert, you wake up to some very sleepy looking shades of color, and your soulmate is clearly tired. But it doesn’t take long for yellow to fill your sight again. By some coincidence, he seems increasingly excited leading up to the moment that the event begins, while you stand in line chatting to your two friends. When looking around, you see the brightest gold lettering on a nearby “SEOKMIN” sign standing out bold in the sunlight. Happy colors.

You’re glad that, whatever he’s doing, your soulmate is having fun. You’re pretty sure your own mood is sky rocketing into the most intense excitement right now, and it always feels good to be in sync.

Soon enough, you’re let into the venue. You take your seats with your friends, so happy with the good view of the stage you have. Before long, the boys you’ve come to love from afar burst onto the stage, filling the whole place with their boundless energy.

Your eyes stay fixed on Seokmin most of the time. You smile brightly to yourself whenever he does, unable to resist the automatic reaction. The golden stage lights are bursting with color right now, as are the passionate reds. You jump up and down, and sing along, and scream at the top of your lungs as Seokmin requests that the crowd all “make some noise!”

It isn’t until the Vocal unit songs that you notice something interesting. In the lead up, the stage lights had turned colorless at first, because presumably they had switched from yellow to blue in preparation for the next phase in the concert. But right as the backing music to Habit starts up, and the boys on stage tune into their emotional sides, the blue lighting comes to life around you, and you can see the sad color. 

It shocks you for a moment, but you shake it off. It’s just an odd coincidence, you’re sure, that your soulmate’s mood is somehow matching the mood of the concert. The blue stays with you for the duration of Say Yes and then, as the other Vocal members come back on for their closing song, 20, Seokmin shifts out of his emotional state, throws on a smile, and the blue vanishes. Though there are no yellow lights on stage right now, a glance around the crowd lets you see the happy colors which are peppered here and there throughout the audience. 

You shake it off again. Just a coincidence, you tell yourself, there’s no way your soulmate is actually here tonight. 

During the ending ments it happens again though. And this time, it feels even more eerily related to what you’re currently watching. Or rather, to one specific person.

Of course, your gaze is fixed on Seokmin. Like always. He’s looking out across the crowd with his smile on his face. While his friends do their rounds of talking, he pops out on of his ear pieces like he wants to hear the cheers of the crowd better. When Hoshi does something dramatic at the front of the stage, and the fans all scream, he closes his eyes to absorb it.

At that exact moment, in your vision, passionate vivid red colors are fading away, and a calm sort of ocean color rises into sight in the t-shirt of the person standing in front of you. You glance down a moment, then return your focus to Seokmin.

He seems emotional now, blinking his eyes open and taking everything in. You know by now that’s it’s not uncommon for him to get emotional like this on stage, and you can spot all the signs. You see his lower lip tremble. 

The blues that rise around you become an overwhelming emotional turmoil of color. You can only stand frozen, shocked by how connected the shades seem to the feelings which are oh-so-clear on the face of the man in front of you.

Suddenly, Woozi is pushing a microphone into his hands, and Seokmin looks like he’s breaking out of a daze.

“Hello... Carats.” he manages to say, a tremble in his voice sending up a loud awww from the crowd. “Thank you so much for coming tonight! We’re always so amazed by the support you give us. I will keep working harder to be... good enough... for you.”

He sniffles. Blue completely fills your vision now as the crowd tries to yell comfort, and suddenly Seokmin’s face crumples into full tears.

Of course, the members crowd him instantly, hugging him, some lightly teasing him for breaking down on stage again. Seungkwan starts tearing up as well. The ending ments continue as Seokmin waves a hand and passes the mic on, and slowly, while he’s tucked between Seungkwan and Jeonghan hugging him, blue trickles out of sight, and yellow returns slowly to your world.

After the concert, you’re in a hurry to run from the venue to a place where you can breathe a little easier, your friends a little confused at being dragged along behind you. As soon as you’re a decent distance away from the crowds of other Carats still milling around, they ask what’s wrong, and your answer comes out no louder than a whisper.

“This sounds crazy,” you say. “But I think Seokmin might be my soulmate.”

Their eyes widen, they glance at each other, then back at you.

“Okay,” your best friend says slowly. “Explain...”

By the end of your description, they think there’s a pretty good chance you may be right. And you’re in a panic, with no idea how you’ll ever be able to meet Seokmin and confirm. If only you had got VIP tickets, with a chance to hold his hand for just a moment. Instead, you’re stuck outside the concert hall, no way to get to the man who might be your destiny. 

Your friends decide you should head off to a nearby restaurant, where you can sit down, eat something, and try to think about the whole thing rationally. Seventeen will be doing a hi-touch right now, so it’s not like they’re going anywhere yet. You could return to the venue and catch them before they leave. Or perhaps you can even drive out to the airport tomorrow and see if you can swing a meeting there...

You sit for hours and plan in the open restaurant closest to the venue.

-

Seokmin has been on edge and worried for the whole time since the concert ended. The only colors he can see are just awful: deep agonized blue and electric panic. And he’s sure his soulmate is somewhere having a near breakdown, even though only moments ago they were ridiculously happy.

“Seokmin, I promise it’ll be okay,” Jeonghan says soothingly, rubbing his arm. “You’re still tired and over emotional after the concert, and I know it’s hard, but you have to try not to worry over something you might not be able to fix.”

He’s so glad for his friends, who stopped teasing him for crying on stage the moment they noticed something was bothering him (even if Minghao had to smack Mingyu in the back of the head to get him to notice).

“How about we go get something to eat?” Jun suggests, always his offer when someone is having a hard time. “The fans are all pretty much gone now, so we can probably head out. I’ll pay, okay?”

“That sounds good, actually,” Seokmin agrees.

Some members want to go straight back to the hotel to sleep, but the rest of them get one of the staff to check the path is clear, and then they take Seokmin to the nearest restaurant. 

He isn’t paying much attention to where he’s going in the state he’s in, and so while his friends neatly avoid the three people who are standing near the door paying for their meal, he manages to crush headlong into the one standing on the edge.

-

You’re nodding along to your best friend while his soulmate pays for the food you just ate. The three of you have decided to try your luck meeting Seokmin at the airport tomorrow, since it’s the only way you can think to get a chance to touch him. 

Absorbed in your conversation, you vaguely notice the door of the restaurant swing open, but you don’t look up. 

And then, suddenly, someone smashes into you from the side.

You topple, arms flailing, letting out a little yelp of shock. Whoever just crashed into you is falling at the same time, and before you can process anything, your back has smacked hard into the ground, and you’re looking up into the startled face of the person who just managed to catch himself on the palms of his hands before he landed his full weight on top of you.

Your mouth drops open.

Not only is his face familiar. Not only does it belong to Seokmin... but it’s also in color.

His skin is the most gorgeous shade of golden brown you’ve ever seen, his dark eyes wide with amazement, and the dyed bronze of his hair holds hidden depths and shades.

He says something in Korean in a breathless voice, and you know enough of the language to know he’s calling you beautiful. Then, suddenly, he snaps into action, as if realizing how embarrassing the whole thing is, and he starts laughing at himself a little, eyes scrunching adorably, and smile radiant. He pulls himself up off you, dusting his hands on those gorgeous thighs before he stands, and then holds out a hand to help you up.

You register for the first time that you’re surrounded by people. Your friends clearly know what just happened, and they’re beaming, but the members seem confused.

Seokmin hasn’t let go of your hand. He shrugs off Jeonghan, Jun, Joshua, and Seungkwan as they try to ask him what’s going on, instead simply staring at you like you just lit up the world. Which, you suppose, you kind of did.

He asks if you can speak Korean.

“A little bit,” you say sheepishly, wishing now you’d taken the time to learn more of it when you got into KPop in the first place.

He giggles at your expression, and pulls you a little closer, his own face very sincere.

“Can I please kiss you?” he asks in Korean, and then, in adorable English. “My Soulmate.”

You hear the other members gasp behind him. Your friends let out a laugh. But all you can see if Seokmin’s face, and his lovely pink lips, and you manage to nod your head through the surprised daze you’re in. 

Seokmin doesn’t hesitate one moment longer.

And then you hear the key jangle in the lock, and you both whirl around.

“Jun, where the hell were you!” Jihoon snaps before your boyfriend has even managed to open the door to your apartment.

Jun ignores the yell and shoves it open, leaning in with an enormous smile on his face. 

“Guys, you have to come outside and see this!” he shouts happily, hanging off the door handle, rain dripping from his hair.

Jihoon glares, and you can’t help the laugh that tips over from your mouth at the contrast between them, which you’ve always loved so much.

“How can you expect us to come out there? You’re late home and we were worried! And it’s pouring with rain too and-” Jihoon splutters as Jun steps inside, mischief in his eyes, and then he interrupts himself.  “Yah, don’t bring the water in like that! We’ll get a towel! And take your shoes off!”

“No, you have to come out!” Jun says, eyes sparkling. He dumps his shopping bags on the ground and spreads his arms to beckon both of you. “You have to see this! Come on!”

You can’t resist him, especially him looking the way he does now, with his childlike grin and dancing eyes, his clothes soaked but his expression radiating happiness. And you realize that Jihoon may be standing his ground now, but he won’t say “no” if both of you ask him for something.

You think about the expression Jun will make if you agree to whatever weird scheme he has going on this time, and a wicked smile grows on your face.

“Come on, Jihoon,” you say, tugging him forward toward Jun and his outstretched arms. “Humour him?”

“Yay, Y/N!” And every sodden wet inch of Jun is suddenly hugging you, while he plants an excited kiss on the top of your head.

“Jun, ah!” you squeal, though protesting is pointless when you know you’re about to get rained on as well. You may as well accept the rather damp hug.

“You’re both ridiculous.” Jihoon grumbles, and he neatly doges the hand Jun reaches out to try pull him into the embrace as well.

Jun doesn’t bother to chase him though. He throws a random pair of waiting shoes and jackets at each of you, and then bounces on his toes while he watches you put them on.

He leads you both down the apartment building stairs to the street. The rain really is beating down, and you shiver a little as you step outside and it hits the top of your head. But then Jun starts to stride off down the street, and you and Jihoon exchange a look- you amused and him exasperated- and follow. He goes very quickly, and before long Jihoon grumbles about the length of his own legs in comparison to Jun’s long ones.

“Do you want me to carry you?” Jun asks sweetly, turning and walking backward in the rain to he can look down at your grumpy, drowned-kitten of a boyfriend. 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Jihoon scoffs, but as Jun winks at him and turns to keep leading, you can see the fond, smitten little smile that grows on his face.

“Gross.” you tease softly. “You love him.”

“Shut up,” Jihoon shakes his dripping fringe. “So do you.”

“We’re here!” Jun cries out, stopping so suddenly you almost crash into him. He chuckles softly and puts an arm round you like he’s making sure you’re steady. 

Jihoon stops on your other side.

“What are we looking at?” he asks.

“There!” Jun points.

Down the little alleyway beside you, between a florist and a coffee shop you three often go to, there’s a tiny little outdoor sitting area, attached for cafe guests to sit in. It’s empty now, of course, the shops closed at this time of day in a rain storm, but there’s still something to see.

Under one of the low seats at the far end, tucked away out of the reach of the rain, is the local coffee shop cat, Flora. And with her are four tiny kittens. You know the cat pretty well from regular visits, but she’s been absent for a while giving birth to her litter, and you’re now seeing the babies for the first time, only a few weeks old. They look very comfortable there, waiting for the rain to stop, their cat flap within easy distance if they wanted to go back inside. 

But perhaps the cutest thing of all is the fact that, a few steps away, in the open air, a pair of ducks are enjoying a puddle with five tiny ducklings paddling around them.

“Junnie,” you squeak, charmed at the adorable sight of Flora and her kittens with their curious eyes on the birds. “They’re so cute!”

“Ah, you brought us out here for this?” Jihoon whines, but he’s smiling despite himself at the antics of the man you both love.

You stay there with Jun’s arm around you, but you pull Jihoon closer too. His hand rests around your waist automatically, and it makes you feel warmer to be between them. 

“Yeah, aren’t they adorable?” Jun says happily. He seems so content just sharing this small thing with you both, and you love him for it. You love his open heart and his lack of self-conciousness in bringing you into his joy. The fact that he couldn’t stand just telling you about this, but really had to show you, is too cute.

While you watch, Flora takes a tiny step forward toward the strange creatures enjoying themselves just outside her shelter, and a drop of rain lands on her head. She lets out a small sneeze of surprise, going back under her shelter. Jihoon lets out the softest little chuckle, and you can see Jun’s grin grow even wider.

“Do you like it, Jihoonie?” he asks. his arm, which is around your shoulder, reaches over and touches his head, and Jihoon smiles again as he finally replies.

“Yeah, I like it.”

-

By the time you get home, you’re all shivering a little. Always a little uninhibited around you two, Jun strips his shirt off the second the front door is closed, and his pants follow in moments, while the two of you are still trying to take off your shoes.

He goes into the bedroom and returns with big fluffy towels for both of you, drying his bare torso and sodden hair as he walks. You accept your towel and wrap it around your shoulders, and then turn to Jihoon.

“It’s cold,” he whines. “Why’d we have to stay there so long?”

“It was cute, Jihoon,” you remind him, fluffing the towel through his hair while he scrunches his face at you.

“Not quite as cute as our Jihoonie, though,” Jun adds in the softest possible voice, wrapping his arms round you from behind and tucking his chin over your shoulder to watch you drying off your mutual boyfriend. 

Jihoon laughs disbelievingly, but some heat enters his cheeks.

“As if,” he says like he’s dismissing it, pretending he’s not flattered.

“Not quite so cute as Y/N, either,” Jun adds warmly.

Wonwoo has read about a thousand books on this soulmate connection, always so interested in the world around him. He keeps them, filled with little post-it note bookmarks, on his shelf. He also keeps a notebook writes down the things he feels through his own soulmate connection- mild colds on your end give him a stuffy feeling in his nose, but produce no snot- vomiting bugs send weird chills through his stomach. He worries about you, feels relieved when your illnesses get better, but for the most part, it feels scientific to him. Fascinating as another thing to learn and uncover.

You happen to be a bit more of a romantic sort when it comes to the soulmate link, though you would never admit just how much you already adore your unknown other half. 

The worst day was the one where Wonwoo discovered his seafood allergy. You were still pretty young, and of course had no clue what was happening on his end, so it really hit you hard. You had felt a tingle in your tongue a few times before, perhaps the mild allergy kicking in when he ate small amounts. But one day he had a whole seafood platter at a restaurant. And you felt it.

Echoes of a phantom itch burst across your skin like the breakout of a rash- but most intense was the tightening in your throat, like your tongue was swelling, even though you could still breathe easy. And as the minutes stretched, you suddenly realized your sense of touch was dulling, a ringing in your ears was growing louder, drowning out the world around you.

You were in the middle of class, but this was worth an interruption. A few kids had been excused to the nurse because of soulmate connections before. As the teacher walked past checking everyone’s work, you whispered to them over the dampened sound in your eardrums:

“I think my soulmate is dying.”

Through the strange dizzy sensation of your senses dimming, you could hardly hear the response she gave, gesturing to the door, sympathetic and concerned. Your friends gave you a few worried goodbyes, and you stumbled out of the room, into the halls of your school.

It was painful to even walk to the nurse, mind dull and aching with the thought of what was happening to him. 

All you could think of was how the things you experienced were meant to be shadows of his pain, and whatever he was feeling must be worse. But you managed to find the nurse, and to explain to her everything that was happening.

“It sounds like an allergy,” she told you after she heard what you had felt. “It may be that your soulmate will be fine, dear. Someone should be with them. They could arrive at a hospital any second, or administer medication if they already knew about the allergy. Don’t worry yet, okay?”

“Okay,” you said dully, still clutching the pillow as you sat in the sick room at your school, eyes fixed on a peeling poster about drug dangers. “I’ll try not to worry.”

But worry you did.

Until, only fifteen minutes later (what seemed to you to be the worst fifteen minutes of your life), the pain began to ease. First, the ringing vanished, and full sensation returned to your body. The agony lifted out of your throat. The tingling feeling like a rash on your skin slowly evaporated.

Finally, by the end of the period, you were better. Your soulmate was alive.

Miles away, sitting in hospital, grumpy to have had a nice family lunch at the restaurant ruined, Wonwoo was listening as the nurse explained to him and his parents that it seemed he was allergic to seafood.

As you both grew up, the soulmate connection continued to provide you little hints of each others lives. You loved every part of that distant connection, even as you worried about his winter sniffles (it was funny how it helped you work out something as simple as the fact that he lived in the Northern hemisphere, sickness getting common in his winter time), and even as you fussed over the few other tongue tingles you got as he (most likely) accidentally ate some seafood again. You still loved feeling linked in. 

Well... you loved most of it. There were hard times too.

There was one thing that made you get irrationally angry with your soulmate. While young Wonwoo was going through puberty, your own school life was disturbed as you were kept up almost every night with the echoes of his growing pains shooting through your legs. By that stage, you’d had health classes and been told that it was one of many weird side symptoms bound pairs could have at this age. But each night, while you tossed and turned and found yourself getting more and more exhausted as school loomed the next day, you found yourself glaring at the ceiling and cursing the boy who (rationally) you knew had no control over it.

You were sure your soulmate had his own share of annoying puberty side effects coming from your end too. Like dull ache of a new pimple about to erupt on your face. 

You just wished there was a way to snap at him and tell him off for keeping you awake at night. Then you wished there was a way to apologize for being grumpy, since it really wasn’t his fault. Most of all, you just wished there was a way to talk to him.

Growing up was certainly a time of some inner turmoil. But what teenager didn’t go through some angst?

Once you had settled into yourself a little more, got a little older, you didn’t feel quite so much emotional turmoil when it came to your Soulmate. You were still fond of him, still fretted over him when he was sick, but you were a little more settled into the routine or your connection now. And his growing pains and the resulting sleepless nights had vanished, legs finally free of cramps. Which certainly helped. 

On the 10th of May 2016, you and a couple of friends discover Seventeen. You love their cheerful, catchy music. You love their astonishing synchronized dance moves. You love their handsome faces. And then, once the three of you find some subtitled interviews, and a few hilarious variety shows, you love every single member.

Especially Wonwoo.

“Of course,” one friend teases you. “I am not surprised.”

“Why?” you demand.

“He’s so the kind of person I could see you with,” she says, and as you open your mouth to try to ask what that’s supposed to mean, your other friend joins in.

“He really is,” he says. “He’s your type. Completely.”

The other continues: “he’s just the kind of person you find handsome, he’s bookish, intelligent, he raps really well, he has a great voice, he’s funny in a really awful dorky way-” (”HEY!” you protest) “and to top it all off, he’s tall.”

“Tall?” you’re surprised. “Why do I care if he’s tall?”

“I don’t know,” your friend shrugs. “I guess with all your soulmate’s growing pains, it seemed like he was getting tall. I connect you with tall guys now.”

“Huh,” you say. You’ve never considered your soulmate’s height before, and for some reason it sends the smallest shiver down your spine. “I’d never thought about that.”

The conversation moves on quickly, as all of you keep scouring the internet, staying up way too late that night, and you find out that Seventeen pretty recently received their first win on a music show. With so much continuous new content, it’s enough to keep you all fully invested, very quickly becoming solid fans. 

Over the next few weeks, pretty much all you guys can talk about is Seventeen, developing inside jokes as you go.

You catch a cold at one point, and you have plenty of time to spend at home sitting around while you wait to get better. Seventeen do a VLive at one point, you and your friends talking in your group chat while you watch together. The funniest thing is that Wonwoo is sitting grumpily in the back of the VLive, and the members start teasing him because his soulmate has a cold and his nose is all stuffy. As you watch, you let out a hacking cough, and after a short lag in the VLive video, Wonwoo suddenly winces like an echo of pain shot through his throat. 

Your friends think it’s hilarious to joke that the soulmate must be you, and you roll your eyes and remind them how common colds actually are. It would be ridiculous if he really was your soulmate. 

Your cold passes quickly, and as June begins, you’re getting closer and closer to Seventeen’s next big event- the Dream Concert. But one day, while you’re hanging out with your friends and catching up on old videos from before you were fans, you feel dull echo of sharp pain in your stomach.

You double over, crying out, clutching the spot, tears pricking your eyes. As the pain swells, a ringing in your ears begins, a dull numbness in the tips of your fingers, a flicker in the corner of your eyes. 

“It’s my soulmate,” you gasp. You can’t believe this is happening again. The dulling-senses feeling of him getting near to death. And it’s not the allergy this time- you had none of the warning signs you had become so familiar with. “Oh god, oh god, something’s wrong.”

The tears spill over.  

“Something’s wrong,” you repeat. “Oh god, I have to-”

You try to stand, some instinct in you desperate to run to his side, but with your dull senses, you almost fall over with dizziness. 

Your friends gather around you, incredibly worried. You can feel nothing but ghosts of his agony, a terrible weight upon you, a knowledge that he’s hurting in the worst way and there’s nothing you can do. All you can do is sit, surrounded by friends, by their comfort, and hope with every fiber of your being that someone is helping him. That he’ll be okay.

Eventually, with the dizziness rocking in your head, you manage to fall asleep. And you wake up the next morning to your friend shaking you awake and holding out her phone to you. You take stock of your senses, the pain less than before, and the ringing in your ears now faint, but better. And then you read what’s written on the screen. 

Time stamped June 3rd 2016, the current date, Pledis Entertainment have put out an announcement that in the middle of the night, Wonwoo experienced sharp pain in his stomach and had to be rushed to hospital. He was diagnosed with acute gastritis. He’ll be missing the Dream Concert and following fan sign.

“Poor Wonwoo,” you gasp, heart aching, tears springing to your eyes immediately. You see your friends exchange a glance. “What’s that look for?”

“Um, Y/N, I know we joked about it,” your friend begins. “But we were talking and... we think Wonwoo is really your soulmate.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, guys.” you sigh, instinctively clutching at the pain in your stomach. “It’s a coincidence.”

“Yeah, but remember that time you had a cold?” your friend begins.

“Easily a coincidence.”

“We also looked at some old Seventeen stuff after we came up with the theory,” your other friend says. “And, well, it all fits. He’s allergic to seafood, and your soulmate has bad allergies. When you broke that bone in your foot a couple years ago, Wonwoo sat out of a dance because his foot hurt. It was captured on Seventeen TV. The date is right. Plus, there’s the VLive from a couple months ago where he kept touching his nose like it was hurting. Didn’t you have a massive pimple erupting that day? I remember because it was school pictures and you were really annoyed-”

“Stop,” you say, shaking your head. “There’s no way-”

But strangely, it actually makes sense. 

They keep going. It seems they’ve spent the last couple of hours searching for evidence. Eventually, you’re close to convinced. Though you really really don’t want to get your hopes up. Not about something as magical as this. Because it would hurt you too badly if it turned out you were wrong.

Time passes after that. By mind-July, Wonwoo still hasn’t joined Seventeen in their next round of promotions for the repackage album. Your own body continues to mirror the effects of his illness, slowing you down a little. But at least you’re still able to go to school.

Then one day, while you’re still trying to process the complexity of the situation, you’re walking down the hallway in your house, the familiar dull agony suddenly rises like an explosion and you nearly pass out. 

Your senses begin to fade. You stretch your numb fingertips, vision blurring at the edges, and feel panic rise.

Perhaps you’re being too rash and not thinking clearly. But the idea that your soulmate might be in danger becomes your only thought. You don’t care about embarrassing yourself by jumping to conclusions. Not if there’s even the slightest chance to save Wonwoo.

So you take out your cellphone, and find the contact number for Pledis Entertainment that’s saved in your phone (your friends had scoured the internet to find the number and given it to you, saying you should have it just in case). You thought it was silly at the time. But now it’s your only hope...

The receptionist who picks up doesn’t speak much English, but she hears the urgency in your voice and gets her colleague to translate. They don’t believe you at first (of course) but when you plead- “Wonwoo’s condition just plummeted. He’s in danger. Please, I know having a soulmate nearby could heal him.” - they decide to give you a chance. Just in case. They can’t risk being wrong and putting one of their idols in danger.

So they transfer the call through to one of Seventeen’s managers. You re-explain the story to them, and they’re very surprised when you can tell them the exact time of Wonwoo’s sudden downturn in health. Especially since, as far as all his fans know, he’s been recovering lately.

They question you about a few different things, suspicion in their voice giving way to surprise. Then they reveal that they’re actually almost at Wonwoo’s hospital room right now, having been called by the nurse when Wonwoo took a turn for the worst. And they will soon test if your theory is right.

Only a minute later, they’re talking to Wonwoo in the background of the call, and you can hear the distant sound of his voice. He’s weak and tired, but it’s him. You feel your knees shake and sit down quickly, not wanting to fall.

“Y/N?” the manager says.

“Yes?” you answer instantly.

“Wonwoo is going to do a few things. Tell us what you feel on your end. If the connection is real, you’ll feel it.”

“Okay,” you say. “Just- just make sure he doesn’t hurt himself too badly.”

Wonwoo starts by biting the soft pad on his thumb, and you hiss in pain at how hard he does it (of course he doesn’t hold back, why are you not surprised?).

“He’s biting his thumb,” you reply. “Tell him not to do it so hard.”

“Okay,” the manager says, and repeats your request in Korean, to which you can hear Wonwoo laugh, your heart soaring at the sound. “What about now?”

And so it continues, you confirming each thing Wonwoo does very easily. You’re amazed at all the creative methods he finds. In the background of the call, you can hear the rumble of his laughter each time you get it right.

The manager considers it proven after that. Wonwoo refuses to have his first interaction with his soulmate be over the phone, so she takes you away, and you start sorting out the logistics of the situation- to get you to Korea- to get you to your soulmate’s side.

-

In the end, Pledis pay for everything.

They get you on the first flight to Korea, have a driver waiting to pick you up from the airport, and even prepare a hotel room for the night (though you insist, and they readily agree, that you go to the hospital as soon as you touch down). You spend the ride over full of nervous energy, only half able to keep up a conversation with the manager you met on the phone, who has joined you in the car.

Even as you travel, you could feel Wonwoo worsening. Because of the medical attention he’s been getting, you know the illness is very very unlikely to become fatal (you spent a lot of time researching acute gastritis once he was diagnosed). But it could put him out of action for a very long time if you can’t kick start his recovery.

You get more nervous as you go. When the car finally stops, you and the manager speed through the hospital. You pause only to take one last deep breath outside the door of Wonwoo’s room, and then you turn the handle and enter.

There he is. Propped up against pillows, looking at the door with hopeful eyes, which grow wide when he sees you, your favorite nose squishing smile breaking over his usually serious face.

“Y/N,” he breathes, already knowing from the phone conversation.

“Wonwoo,” you reply softly.

You cover the last distance to his side in a few steps, his hand reaching for you as you approach, entwining your fingers immediately. The second you feel him, skin on skin, you can feel something pass between you.

He doesn’t stop there either. He tugs you in as close as he can, your hips pressed against the hospital bed. Then he lets go of your hands and places his broad palms on the small of your back instead, closer and more intimate. You lift your own hands and cradle his face, looking back at him.

The room seems to lighten, your eyesight returning in full. The ringing in your ears dims to nothing. Sensation flows through your hands. With touch, sight, smell, taste, hearing- your senses rejuvenated- you know Wonwoo is no longer close to death.

Even the sharp medical smell of the hospital, the artificial light, the beeping of monitors, is like a fresh relief.

He’s still sick, of course. It’s not a magic heal-all. You still feel the dull ache in his stomach, the slight weakness of his body. But he’s so much closer to good health. So much better just from being with you.

He’s staring up at you with emotion in his eyes, like he’s drinking in the sight, cataloging and remembering forever.

“Oh, Wonwoo,” you gasp, tears pricking in your eyes. “I’m so- I can’t believe-” and then you remember there’s a language barrier. You laugh, and with the little Korean you’ve picked up, you manage to say “I love you.”

“Thank you,” Wonwoo says in the sweetest English you’ve ever heard. “I love you too.”