Septiplier One-Shots

Not Meant To Be

This is an alternate version of the earlier one-shot "Meant To Be"
Reread the original chapter just incase you get a little confused :3

Mark stumbled into the library, removing the warm coat from his body. He brushed the snow out of his hair, falling into a not-so-comfortable chair, but it was a lot better than freezing his ass off in the cold.

He took a breath into his hands to try and warm them up, taking a few moments to get some heat into his body. Mark noticed another person walk inside, possibly just to get out of the cold as well. Mark had no reason to look for a book at the local library; he just wanted to get out of the snowstorm. He thought he would be able to walk home in time from the theater, but he wasn't able to.

He looked at the man who just entered the library. He fell on a chair and groaned, rubbing his eyes. His eyes, Mark thought, What color are they?

He continued to stare at the man until he could see what the man's eye colors were, and finally he did. His right eye was the exact same color as Mark's left eye, and that's when he realized that he had found his soulmate.

Mark uncontrollably stood up, looking down at his shaking hands. He had know idea what he was doing, so he started walking. He didn't know where he was walking, either, but he didn't stop. All he could do was move foward. He speant years just searching for whoever his soulmate would be, and now he had found him in the most unexpected place.

Mark suddenly bumped into something, but it wasn't a wall. He slowly looked up to see the man- to see his soulmate. The word felt so weird to Mark, even if he was just thinking it.

"Um, sorry." He said, trying to avoid eye contact. Sadly, he wasn't very good at it.

"Is.... is that my-?" He stuttered, speaking with the most adorable Irish accent.

"Yeah, um, it is." Mark looked up, only to have the world around him fall apart.

His left eye was not Mark's eye color. It was hazel.

"I-I have a girlfriend. With hazel eyes. Shit, dude... I'm so fucking sorry."

He finally found his soulamte, only to discover that he wasn't his soulmate's soulmate. It's rare for something like this to happen, and Mark just happened to be unlucky.

"I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? Dude, I feel terrible."

"Yeah, I know."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"I'll be fine." Mark left the library with tears in his eyes. He no longer cared about the cold, so he started walking home again.

"Hey, come back!" A familiar Irish accent shouted. Mark refused to turn around and stare at the man that belonged to him, but who he didn't belong to.

***

It's been five years, and Mark still can't get his soulmate out of his mind. He imagines that the woman with hazel eyes is his wife, and maybe they even have a baby on the way. He can only imagine the man to be happy, because if his soulmate is happy, then Mark has to be happy, too.

He stared at the TV screen which showed a cartoon that wasn't worth Mark's attention. He just can't stop thinking of the gorgeous man with the adorable Irish accent.

Mark decided to go for a walk, just to distract himself for a while. He hoped he could find someone else to love, but everybody wanted their own soulmate.

Mark walked to the park, a feeling of sadness rushing through him as he stared at all the happy couples with matching eye colors. They all found their happy endings, so why couldn't Mark?

His mind wandered off to a place without his soulmate until an all-too-familiar voice shouted, "Hey, you!"

Mark turned around to see his soulmate, so he ran. He didn't say a word and ran from all the bad memories, but he didn't run fast enough. The man with the Irish accent caught up with him.

"I haven't gone a day without thinking about you." Mark said.

"Seriously, I'm so sorry. My name is Jack."

"My name is Mark."

"Mark, you can't beat yourself up over this. Go to a bar or something and gind a lucky lady or man who doesn't care who their soulmate is." Mark thought it was so cute when Jack said 'bar.' His Irish accent was definitely something worth loving.

"The problem is, Jack, everybody wants their soulmate. So, if you excuse me, I'm going to leave before I'm hurt even more."

"Mark, please. We can fix this!"

Without replying, Mark started to run again. He didn't care where he was going, he just needed to run. He needed to run as far as possible until that amazing Irish accent was out of his mind. He needed to forget about Jack- forget about how much he loves it when Jack says his name, forget how adorable he really is, and just forget him.

Up ahead were multiple speeding cars, but Mark didn't bother to stop. He had lived so many miserable years, so he doubted getting hit by a car would hurt more than the past.

It was a millisecond of extreme pain; that was it. It was almost instant, almost painless. But, it was finally over. Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea, but Mark was sure that it was. He was happy now; he was free of the pain. He no longer had to think about his supposed-to-be soulmate, and maybe he could find someone in the afterlife.

Mark wanted to forget everything that happened. If Jack truly was sorry, would he have broken up with his girlfriend?

But, Mark swore he could've heard a cry of pain and sadness right before he was hit. He swore he heard a familiar Irish accent yell one thing.

"Mark!"