2024 Story Collection

The Hero Named Ghost and His Soulmate V

"Wait," she calls out to him as she follows him down the hall leading to the room displaying her work. "Didn't you have somewhere you needed to go? You were in a hurry earlier."

He stops and turns to face her right before entering the room. "I was looking for you."

She flushes bright red at his words. "You-what?"

"I was looking for you," he repeats, gently taking her hand in his. "I had seen your paintings and came running out to ask who you were, when I ran right into you." He smiles.

She smiles back and blushes, not knowing what to say. So she just takes squeezes his hand and leads him into the room.

He reluctantly let go of her hand to walk over to the only empty wall. He hangs up the painting on the wall for her.

Today would forever be marked as one of the best days of her life. She got the chance to show her work off in a gallery and on opening day met her soulmate. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

"Thank you," she says as she steps up beside him, admiring her work.

"My name is Marc, by the way," he says with a smile. Her heart pounds in her chest every time she looks at him.

"Wow, my soulmate is handsome," she says out loud without meaning to. She slaps a hand over her mouth, her face going bright red.

"Thank you," he smirks, "But next to you I look like a naked mole rat."

She bursts out laughing so hard to the point she almost falls over.

"I hope you're laughing because it's absurd and not because you think it's true."

She just nods, making him laugh too.

"I'm Lucy," she says through giggles.

"Lucy," he says, trying out the name. "I've always liked that name."

"Marc isn't too bad either," she jokes, gently pushing his shoulder.

"Do you have any plans today?" he asks suddenly.

"I do now," she says, stepping next to him, looping her arm through his. "What do you have in mind?"

"How do you feel about a rooftop picnic?" he asks.

"That sounds wonderful."

To be honest, she would've been okay with anything he suggested.

---

They had gone together to a few local stores and a bakery to gather everything for the picnic. 

They got stuff for sandwiches and some dessert too. He also sneakily bought her some flowers and a few chocolates.

"Where are we going now?" she asks when he takes a turn down an alleyway.

He offers his arm to her, which she takes without hesitation.

"Up," is all he says, pointing with his finger in that exact direction.

She blinks, and suddenly they are no longer in the alley, instead they are on the roof of a building. She looks around, confused. Why does this rooftop look familiar?

"How did you-" she asks, stepping away from Marc.

"When I first saw you, I recognized you. You're the artist that lives up there, right?" He rushes out. He seemed nervous.

She looks up to where he's pointing at and recognizes her apartment. That's why it looked so familiar. This is the roof right across from it.

But how would he, how could he- "Ghost."

It all made sense. The language, how he knew her apartment, how they got here-teleportation, the choice of this rooftop.

"I didn't know how to tell you," he says, stepping closer to her. "I didn't want to keep it from you. I wanted you to know before you accepted me, just in case-"

"Of course I accept you," she says, almost hurt. "This doesn't change anything. I still care for you."

"I-" it was his turn to blush now.

"Why don't we go to my place and eat?" she suggests. "The wind is picking up and I'm a bit cold."

"Okay," he says. She walks up to him and hugs him instead of taking his arm a moment later. They're in her apartment, by the window.

"Here," she says, taking the bags of food and setting them down on her makeshift diningroom table that is actually just an old spool of something. "Lets sit here and eat."

"So this is what it looks like," he says as he walks around her space.

"Sorry about the mess," she says. "I wish I could tell you it didn't always look like this, that I usually kept it cleaner, but that would be a lie. This is about as clean as it gets."

"There are so many paintings," he says as he slowly makes his way over to her. "Why don't you display more of them?"

"Those aren't as good. I was just starting to figure out the whole painting thing then-I guess I still am-but those aren't the quality I want to display."

"I can't wait to see what you do next," he says, finally taking a seat.

"It doesn't bother you that I use your language?"

"Never," he says. "My people would be proud to have our language displayed in such an artistic way."

"What are they like?" she asks. "How did you end up here?"

"We are artists, performers, creatives. That is what we are known for. I never was much like that, though. Not enough to fit in."

"As for how I ended up here, that's a long story," he says. "But to simplify it, I came here for you." Her eyes widen and he chuckles.

"I realized I knew a foreign language and looked for any information I could find, but because the public libraries on our planet were incredibly small, they didn't have the information I needed."

"But there was one place I knew would hold the answers I was looking for. I broke into the library of secrets to find the information. I succeeded in finding what I was looking for, but was caught. The price I payed for the information was exile."

"You did all that, just to know-"

"I don't regret a thing. I never have," he says, taking her hand. "If I was to regret anything, it would be not approaching you sooner."

The End. (for now)

March 3, 2024