Work Text:
Evelyn could barely remember what her soulmate mark looked like.
She believed it was black, maybe navy – definitely something dark. It had been over her heart, a kind of uneven shape. She’d never particularly paid attention to it, had much more serious things to worry about as a homeless orphan thrown into assassin training. And then they’d asked her to burn it off, as a sign of her loyalty to the organization, to abandon her soulmate and dedicate herself to the shadows.
Little Evelyn had not hesitated. None of them did. They were too young to understand just what they were throwing away, just how important a soulmate was. To them, it was the erasure of some meaningless mark in exchange for a roof over their heads, a stable source of food and water, and a purpose in life. What other response could they have given but yes?
It had hurt more than any other wound she would ever sustain, a piercing agony that seemed to sink deep into her skin, lancing through her heart, burning into her very soul. She could barely move for days afterward, the mere action of her chest rising and falling cutting through her like a thousand knives.
Apparently, she’d had the worst of it, with her soulmate mark relatively large and situated over the sensitive skin of her chest. The girl who would eventually become Rain had hers on her upper arm, and was back to class within days, just a little woozy from pain pills. The boy who drove himself crazy trying to beat Evelyn’s score on the obstacle course had his mark on the back of his knee, and limped himself back to class the next morning, wincing with every movement. Of the twelve kids in her class, Evelyn was the one who required the longest recovery time, barely able to sit up for three whole days.
Unwilling to be seen as weak, Evelyn gritted her teeth, popped as many pain pills as she dared, and returned to training within five days. She’d cursed her mark for its location, for how deeply it had to have been burned, but once it had healed, never thought about it again.
Until today.
Astra had dragged her over to Random Play to watch one of Monica’s latest releases, some overly-sweet, bubblegum-pink romance about two strangers who met at a bar and realized, by complete coincidence, that their soulmate marks matched. However, Monica’s character was from a poor family, while her soulmate was a member of TOPS, and his extended family refused to accept a woman of such low standing into the fold.
The movie was lighthearted, the plots against the main couple fantastical and comedic, and in the end, they were able to convince TOPS about the power of love or whatnot. An average script, really, but Monica’s magnetic charisma had helped her carry much worse.
Toward the end of it, Belle and Astra weren’t even watching the movie anymore. Instead, they were talking about soulmate marks, about how some people have taken to just posting photographs of their marks on the Inter-Knot to find their soulmates faster, and how that apparently took the “romance” out of the whole soulmate thing.
“I was afraid my fans would pull something like that, so I’ve made sure to keep mine hidden.”
“That’s a good idea! It would feel horrible if you lost the magic of finding your soulmate because of some online stalkers.”
Wise decided to join in, pragmatic as always. “But wouldn’t meeting your soulmate earlier and having more time with them make up for losing that moment?”
“You don’t understand,” Belle whined, and Astra seemed to agree with her. “You get it too, don’t you, Evelyn?”
Not expecting to be addressed, Evelyn spent a moment too long just… staring.
Clearing her throat awkwardly, she admitted, “I’ve never put much thought into the idea of soulmates.”
“Why not?” Astra and Belle turned toward her in near perfect unison, as if they had rehearsed it beforehand.
“Not everyone is a romantic,” Wise said helpfully, throwing himself into the line of fire. “I don’t even know what my own mark looks like, anyway.”
“You don’t?” Astra cried, sounding so genuinely distressed that Evelyn’s heart ached. “But what if that makes you miss out on meeting them, and you end up alone for years and years?”
“Weren’t you all for meeting your soulmate sooner?” Belle asked, almost accusatory.
“That’s hypothetical,” he defended, his cheeks starting to turn pink. “I mean, sometimes things don’t work out with your soulmate. Belle, haven’t you found hundreds of stories like that on the Inter-Knot? So… while it might be nice to meet them, I don’t want to place unrealistic expectations on this supposed bond.”
“Scientists can’t even agree on what causes soulmate marks, and no one knows what framework nature is using to pair people in the first place,” Evelyn added.
The two women shared a look, apparently displeased by their lack of appreciation for soulmates in general.
“That’s it. I’m going to make it my life’s mission to find your soulmate, and create a magical first meeting for you,” Belle huffed, grabbing the back of her brother’s jacket. “Now, where is it?”
“B-Belle, wait…!”
With a faint chuckle, Astra stepped back to allow the siblings to tussle, her hands immediately reaching out for Evelyn. Sighing fondly, Evelyn took one step closer to her, smiling as she felt her arms wrap around her waist.
“Y’know, Eve,” she said, deceptively casual, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen yours, either.”
Evelyn’s response was immediate.
“And you never will.”
Astra pouted. She was so cute that Evelyn couldn’t help but reach out to pinch her cheek.
“But you’ve seen mine!”
Oh, she had. She’d seen Astra’s soulmate mark even in her dreams. A single moth’s wing, decorated with crystalline stars. Black like Astra’s hair, hidden beneath the high collars and chunky necklaces that she favored. Peeking at Evelyn from between messy dark tresses, it mocked her with its shape, feeding her a dizzying hope that she could never live up to.
A moth’s wing. A dozen eight-pointed stars. Evelyn and Astra, connected by the red thread of fate.
It was possible, but with her mark long destroyed, she would never be able to confirm it. They could make an educated guess and feel pretty confident about it, but there was no way they could prove their connection. She would never be able to provide Astra the certainty of a true soulmate, the magic of running trembling fingers over matching marks, aware that the world had intended for them to be together from the very start.
Shaking herself internally, Evelyn kept her voice light as she teased, “That’s because you make me drag you out of bed all the time.”
Astra huffed, but she was blushing. Before she could say anything else, there was a loud thump as Wise fell off the couch, his head slamming against the edge of the coffee table.
“Wise!”
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” he reassured, one hand exploring the back of his head to check for any blood.
Fortunately, he did not seem to have been too badly hurt, but he would likely have a sizable lump on his head for the next few days. Belle had the grace to look sheepish about it, at least, her own knees slightly red from the tumble.
Astra helped him back on his feet while Belle ran for a pack of ice. The movie continued to play, mostly ignored, in the background, all cheesy music and canned laughter. The animated discussion continued, albeit with significantly less physical violence, well into the evening.
Astra held her hand the entire time, their fingers intertwined. Belle raised an eyebrow at it, but Evelyn refused to blush, refused to let go, the scar on her chest throbbing with every beat of her aching heart.
Ever since that day, Astra had… changed?
It started off pretty subtle, her hand lingering on Evelyn’s waist for a moment too long, their ankles touching under the table at breakfast, Astra laying her head in her lap on the car ride home. Pet names here and there, from thank you, darling to you’re too good to me, sweetheart. When Astra first kissed her cheek, Evelyn had almost combusted on the spot, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest.
Then, it started getting more obvious. Holding hands during meetings, fingers intertwined, Astra’s thumb tracing lazy circles over her knuckles. Climbing into Evelyn’s lap when they were watching movies on the couch, snuggling into her shoulder and mumbling something about being sleepy, but refusing to go to bed. Legs pressed together under the dinner table, dangerously close, Evelyn’s heart pounding in her throat.
She was not quite sure what was going on.
Was this Astra’s way of trying to find her soulmate mark…? Evelyn couldn’t quite figure out the logic of it, but Astra’s mind did work in mysterious ways. Perhaps she had some sort of secret plan, and it involved getting Evelyn desensitized to her touch so that she could search for it?
If that was the case, Astra was going to fail miserably. Far from growing accustomed to the feel of Astra’s skin against hers, Evelyn was only getting more sensitive. The slightest touch burned all the way up her spine, leaving a tingly, static-like feeling that spread far beyond the contact point. Yet, despite how uncomfortable it logically felt, Evelyn couldn’t help but want more.
But she shouldn’t, couldn’t. Astra was not hers to have. Maybe she had been, once, but without her own mark, she would never be able to prove it. That doubt would always linger in the back of her mind, the terrifying possibility that she wasn’t Astra’s soulmate, that she was the one standing between Astra and that romantic happy ending she’d been dreaming of.
Evelyn already felt like she didn’t deserve Astra, that there was surely a better person out there for her who hadn’t intentionally gained her trust to stab her in the back. Someone who could stand by her side as an equal, a fellow star instead of a dark, misshapen little moon clinging to her orbit. With the added insecurity of her ruined mark, any attempt at a relationship would be doomed to fail.
She had no proof that Astra was doing any of this with romantic intentions, anyway. It was most likely what people called fanservice, a little treat to make her feel special, when in reality, it was given out to everyone. Like how Astra tried to remember the names of her regular fans, to remember the news they shared with her, so she could ask them about it at the next fanmeet. Like how she spent an hour each day checking her fan tags, liking fan edits and commenting on fanart. Like how she hung out at the Proxy siblings’ shop when she had the free time, watching movies on their couch and “accidentally” touching their hands in the popcorn bowl.
It wasn’t anything special, it was just Astra’s way of thanking her for all she had done. Evelyn repeated that over and over in her head, hoping that if she said it enough times, she would stop entertaining any baseless delusions.
Unfortunately, all she ended up doing was spiraling, until the slightest brush of Astra’s hand felt like the touch of a branding iron, painfully hot, until Astra’s mere presence felt like a serrated knife being scraped over her spine.
Two weeks. She had no idea how she’d managed to survive this long, but she didn’t feel confident in lasting much longer.
Astra had just wrapped up shooting for some kitschy variety show, and there would be two days of downtime before she threw herself headfirst into rehearsals for her role in Spring Snow, a tragic musical that would be running for seven days across three different theaters in the Janus Quarter in two months’ time.
Evelyn had planned on spoiling her for over a month now, but had no idea if she could endure two days of close proximity with this new, extra touchy-feely Astra. She’d changed her plans a dozen times over the last few days, put in more public activities so they wouldn’t have to cuddle on the couch, Astra half-asleep in her lap, warm breath tickling at the curve of her neck. But public activities came with their own risks, and as outgoing and extroverted as Astra was, even she would need a break after months of running on fumes. On top of that, Astra probably needed some space to process, emotionally, the absolute shitstorm that had occurred during her Star Loop concert; the helpless rage of Lady de Winter, the true identity of her trusted manager and bodyguard, and the fact that she had come horrifyingly close to dying in a ball of fire alongside thousands of her biggest fans. If anyone deserved to lock their doors and disappear from the world right now, it was Astra.
In the end, Evelyn had decided to stick to her original plan, and so here they were, bathed in the light of the late morning sun, eating a stack of homemade pancakes, topped with whipped cream and fresh strawberries.
Astra’s right foot was pressed into her inner calf, the touch light but purposeful. There was a little whipped cream at the corner of her mouth, and Evelyn was deep in the trenches of her own mind, trying to resist the urge to reach out and wipe it away.
There was a tension in the air, something undefined, something electric. Evelyn studiously ignored it as she ate, struggling to swallow past the knot in her throat.
Astra sighed, lowering her fork. Concerned, Evelyn sat up a little straighter, panicked words just on the tip of her tongue.
What’s wrong? Did I overcook it? Are the strawberries too sour? Did I use too much whipped cream, or–
Astra’s foot slid teasingly up her inner calf, before slipping between her knees.
Evelyn’s brain short-circuited, her body jerking upright as all her thoughts came to a screeching halt.
For a painfully long moment, neither of them dared to breathe. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on, scraping down her throat and jamming up her lungs.
The confidence in Astra’s eyes wavered, faded. When her foot retreated, Evelyn nearly whined, her body shifting forward in a desperate attempt to maintain contact.
Confusion, now. Astra gently pressed their ankles together, questioning – is this okay?
Was it okay? Evelyn had no idea. She liked the contact, sure, but it was also driving her insane with intense want and crippling insecurity. Why was Astra doing this to her, what was she trying to get out of this, was she trying to send a message Evelyn just wasn’t getting?
Astra’s tongue poked out between pink lips, cleaning up that bit of whipped cream. Her eyes were hooded, cloudy, burning twin holes into Evelyn’s soul.
Evelyn swallowed thickly, her eyes wide.
“A-Astra?”
A low, almost husky laugh. The smile that twisted at Astra’s lips was wry, fond but also exasperated.
“Oh, Eve, just what is going on in that head of yours?”
Hope stirred in her chest, pitifully delusional. Evelyn reached out to grab it, felt it strain between her fingers, a wild animal trying to escape.
It’s just fanservice. You’ve seen her give it to the Proxy before – she basically kissed them while they were in Eous! You had to watch her go on dates with each of them individually! This is absolutely nothing in comparison!
The memory left a bitter aftertaste in the back of her mouth, jealousy souring her stomach. That’s right, she reminded herself, clinging onto the pain, you’re special to her, but you aren’t that kind of special.
“I’m just… tired,” she finally managed, weak and insincere.
Astra looked away, tension flexing along the line of her jaw.
“Good thing we’re staying in today, then.”
“Yeah.”
The conversation ended there, awkward and hanging. The only sound between them was the clink of cutlery and the thundering of Evelyn’s heartbeat in her ears.
Astra was simply trying to thank her for everything she had done, as a manager, a bodyguard, and a best friend. All that playful affection was simply her way of thanking Evelyn for her support, just as she thanked the Proxies, and her fans in general. All that extra physical proximity was probably Astra’s way of proving that, despite Evelyn’s true identity, she still trusted her completely and utterly.
And that was already more than she deserved.
Evelyn had been forgiven, accepted, trusted. It was impossible to hope that she would be loved, too.
Somehow, she had ended up in Astra’s bed.
They were sprawled among a mountain of pillows, a blanket draped over them like a roof. Even the couch cushions had been brought in, serving as a nice, solid spine for their little fort.
It was nice, doing something so mindlessly childish, without any deadlines or secrets or missions breathing down the backs of their necks. The fort collapsed over a dozen times before they managed to engineer something they could huddle under, bodies pressed so close together that she could feel every breath that Astra took.
Astra was giggling over a video Belle had sent her, which featured a rather large cat trying to squeeze into a small cardboard box. Its insistence had resulted in the box tearing at the sides, but still, it refused to acknowledge defeat, sitting stubbornly on flattened cardboard.
Evelyn could not help but smile, her fingers automatically carding through long, dark hair. Astra seemed delighted by the touch, leaning into it with a happy little chirp. A message flashed across the top of her screen – Belle, Evelyn recognized, and politely looked away. With a panicked little squeak, Astra tilted her phone away, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
With a fond smile, Evelyn closed her eyes. She could feel the exact moment when Astra noticed, her shoulders relaxing, but the rapidfire tapping of her fingers did not slow.
After what must have been a sizable essay, Evelyn heard the sound of Astra’s phone thumping against the mattress. A high-pitched squeal of mortification, Astra’s heated cheek burying into the crook of her neck.
Her eyelids fluttered open.
“Is everything alright?”
“Belle is bullying me,” came the response, petulant and sulky.
“Would you like me to do something about it?” Evelyn offered, her tone too serious to be anything but a joke. “I still have an unmarked car and the keys to a warehouse in the Outer Ring.”
A full-body laugh, rumbling pleasantly against her front. Beautiful red eyes shining brighter than the stars, filled with amusement and affection.
“You’d do that for me?”
“I’d do anything for you.”
With a thoughtful hum, Astra traced her fingers along the curve of Evelyn’s jaw. The touch was electric, her heart stuttering in her throat as she felt a soft thumb against her lower lip.
The atmosphere grew tense, but not in a bad way. The air was thick with what felt like anticipation, her heart rising to her throat and her tongue growing thick and heavy in her mouth.
Astra’s eyes were dark, hooded, her pupils visibly dilated. Her face was too close, yet not close enough, the distance between them gnawing at the base of Evelyn’s stomach like a hungry rat.
She shifted. Astra shifted with her, a thigh sliding between her legs, one hand cupping the back of her neck.
“You scare me,” Astra admitted, the words just barely audible over the beating of Evelyn’s heart.
“I don’t mean to,” Evelyn replied, panicked. “Is there something I’m doing wrong? Please, tell me–”
“Not like that,” she interrupted, smiling now. “It’s just that… I don’t know where I stand with you.”
“Where you stand with me?” Evelyn echoed, confused.
Astra laughed softly, more of an exhale than anything else. “Are you that dense, or are you trying to let me down subtly?”
Hope gave her a powerful kick to the gut, her mouth going dry as she stuttered, “I-I’m not sure I follow…”
“You really don’t?” An incredulous little laugh, a sliver of confidence returning to warm red eyes. “Eve, I’ve been throwing myself at you for a ridiculously long time now. Have you really not caught on yet?”
The breath was knocked out of her in one swift, merciless sucker punch. Evelyn choked, dissolving into panicked coughs as her mind struggled to process those words.
Was there any other way she could interpret these words, was there a chance Astra was saying all this platonically? Probably not, but as long as there was a non-zero chance, Evelyn didn’t want to risk putting her foot in her mouth and changing their relationship forever…
“Oh my god, I can actually hear the gears turning in your head,” Astra teased, her thumb pressing at the corner of Evelyn’s lip. “I, Astra Yao, am romantically interested in you, Evelyn Chevalier. Is that clear enough for you?”
For a moment, the entire world came to a halt. She was not breathing, her heart was not beating, her mind was not thinking. Her soul had slipped between the gaps of space and time, floating in the silence of the unfathomable void.
And then she was breathing again, her heart flinging itself against the curve of her ribcage like a frantic animal seeking freedom. The scar on her chest throbbed like a knife being twisted in her chest, hope beading from the wound like fresh blood.
“I…” she couldn’t string a sentence together, couldn’t do anything but grab fistfuls of Astra’s shirt and hold. “I…”
“I showed you my soulmate mark for a reason, you know,” Astra continued, a little exasperated. “I thought that if you recognized it, you’d respond to me right away. But you never did.”
That was… that had been intentional? Even back then, when they had only just settled into the rhythm of life with each other, when their trust was still a young fawn on shaky legs?
“I tried to drop every hint I could think of, but you kept ignoring them. I started thinking that… maybe we didn’t match, but you were too shy to say it outright, to reject me.”
“It’s not that,” at last, Evelyn managed to find her voice, just a little squeaky. “I could never reject you.”
A huff. “So why have you kept me waiting all this while?”
Swallowing past the massive lump in her throat, Evelyn replied, “Because… you seemed so excited, about the idea of a soulmate. The joy of recognizing each other’s marks, the security of knowing that this person is the one you’re meant to be with. And I can’t give you that.”
It was Astra’s turn to be confused, but before she could ask, Evelyn was already telling her the answer.
“It’s not that I’m not your soulmate. It would be easier if I knew I wasn’t. But I don’t know, I can’t know.”
She undid the buttons of her shirt as she spoke, her hands trembling. It took only three for her scar to be exposed, a shiny pale pink, visibly raised and oddly textured.
“They told us it was a test of loyalty. A way to prove, physically and emotionally, that we would put the Organization above all.”
She could still remember that quiet evening, tension heavy in the air. The twelve of them, all dressed in the same simple uniform of a button-up shirt and shorts, lined up neatly in a row. How they tried to keep their heads high despite their nervousness, their backs straight with stubborn pride as they stared into a large brazier of crimson flames.
A line of sticks, their tips wrapped in kerosene-soaked cotton, tied in red rope. Another symbol, the severing of the red thread of fate with their own shaky hands.
Evelyn had been the first. Swallowing back her fear, she’d grabbed a torch, stuck it into the fire, and held it against her own chest. The pain was indescribable, her vision turning white, and yet her trembling hands never let go of the torch.
“They made us burn it off with our own hands. When we could no longer stand the pain, they pinned us down and kept burning, until they knew there would be nothing left. And I let them take it, didn’t even bother trying to remember what it looked like, because I wanted to prove that I deserved their trust.”
Astra’s face had gone pale, almost green. Her fingers hovered over Evelyn’s chest, as if afraid to touch, and so she shifted forward, pressing her ruined skin into that beautiful palm.
“Without any proof, how could I possibly hope to be yours?”
With shaky fingers, Astra traced over the edges of the scar, over the ridges of uneven, pale skin. There was not a single sign of the mark that once lay there, the symbol that would lead her to the person she’d been born to meet.
“Oh Eve,” Astra said, her voice cracking, “That’s terrible.”
She leaned in, her fingers curling around the edge of Evelyn’s shirt. Her lips were warm, stirring something sharp and hot to life beneath Evelyn’s skin.
“So that’s why I can’t respond to you,” Evelyn concluded, the bridge of her nose burning with the pressure of unshed tears. “I can’t be sure that I’m your soulmate.”
“So,” Astra said softly, a little hesitantly, “You aren’t rejecting me because you don’t like me?”
“Of course not!” Evelyn replied, a little indignant. “How could anyone not like you?”
“So you like me.”
Slightly bemused, she confirmed, “Yes, I do.”
“Romantically.”
She flushed, averting her eyes as her heartbeat picked up.
“Yes.”
“Then why does it matter?”
“Huh?”
“Sure, I would’ve liked to compare soulmate marks with you. To trace the shape of yours, knowing that it matches mine perfectly. To have the type of fairy tale romance that love songs are written about. And it does make me a little sad that we can’t have that.”
Their faces were so close, Evelyn could almost feel the outline of every word against her lips.
“But I don’t need a stupid mark to tell me how I feel.”
Astra smiled against her skin, brushing yet another kiss to the top of her scar, yet another against her collarbone, yet another over her throat. Evelyn held on tighter, desperate, hopeful, hardly daring to believe this was real.
“Astra…”
“I love you and I want you. If you feel the same, then isn’t that enough?”
Could it really be that simple? Could love truly exist without the guiding rails of a soulmate mark, without its promise of forever, without its assurance that you had chosen correctly?
Evelyn did not know, and honestly, was a little afraid to find out. What if they were wrong, what if the right person for Astra came along one day, complete with matching soulmate mark, and they realized she’d wasted her time all along? Even if Evelyn stepped aside immediately, cradling the remnants of her broken heart, it would not make up for the years Astra had spent without her soulmate by her side.
“Stop thinking so loud,” Astra pouted. “Okay, we aren’t sure if our marks match, but that also means we aren’t sure if they don’t match. So there’s still a chance, isn’t there?”
That was a positive way of looking at it, Evelyn supposed; neither a yes nor a no, but a question mark.
“But…”
A sigh of exasperation, thick with affection. “Just take a leap of faith with me, Eve. Please?”
She shouldn’t. It would be selfish of her to say yes, to stand in the way of Astra’s happiness for the sake of a possibility. But wasn’t it also selfish to make decisions on Astra’s behalf, disregarding her feelings in the name of doing what was “good for her”?
There was a chance that they were not soulmates, that the mark Evelyn had long forgotten led her into the arms of someone else. But there was also a chance that they were, that this attraction they felt had been written in the stars. Astra was aware of this, of how shaky the foundations of their relationship would be, and yet she was willing to give it a try.
So what should Evelyn do? If it was selfish of her to make choices on Astra’s behalf, should she just choose what she felt would be best for herself? But that would be selfish too, putting her own needs before Astra’s, and that was bad, wasn’t it?
A pinch to her cheek, exasperated, impatient.
“It’s not like we’re binding our immortal souls in an unbreakable oath,” she grumbled. “You don’t have to think so hard about it. I’m not asking for grand promises or fairy tale endings. I’m just asking if you want me.”
Her answer was breathy, reverent.
“I do.”
“Then shut up and kiss me already!”
Those soft lips, twisted in a pout, called to her like a siren’s song. Evelyn’s resolve faltered, faded, and she threw herself overboard, more than happy to drown.
Astra tasted sweet, like strawberries and whipped cream and love, pure and simple.