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Jung Wooyoung stares back at him, the same old childish (somewhat endearing) handwriting it always is.
"Hey." Yeosang appears behind San, pressing a quick kiss to the younger's cheek. San smiles.
"Hey. How was work?"
"It was all right." Yeosang shrugs. "Seonghwa nearly strangled Mingi to death, but then again, what else is new?"
San laughs, leaning his chin on his hand as he watches Yeosang dig around in the fridge for some semblance of food.
He sees the way Yeosang rubs at his upper arm. "Is it bothering you again?"
Yeosang looks at his boyfriend. "Huh?"
"Your mark," San says. "You were rubbing it again."
"Oh." Yeosang blinks, closing the fridge, leftover pizza in hand. "I don't even realise sometimes."
He pulls up his shirt sleeve, and the name catches both their attentions because it looks irritated, their eldest friend's impeccable script rimmed in red.
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"I'm okay," Yeosang assures San.
"It doesn't look okay." San frowns. Yeosang offers a smile.
"Yours does this too, sometimes. It's just because... y'know."
"Because we don't love them," San finishes the thought. Yeosang purses his lips, but he nods.
"But it's okay. Really. Seonghwa doesn't care for romance, you know that. They had hoped they'd never get a mark, and they said they were relieved it was me because if it had been some stranger they wouldn't have known what to say."
San hums, looking back down at his book. He has to finish it for class in a few hours (he's only got forty pages left), but his eyes start to drift to his mark once more.
Yeosang sits down next to him. "It's gonna be okay, Sannie."
"But what if my soulmate doesn't understand, Yeosang?" San blurts out. Yeosang puts a comforting hand on the small of San's back. "What if he wants us to be together? What if he wants me to break up with you? Yeosang, I can't do that, I love you so much — "
"I love you too, Sannie," Yeosang assures him. "And if he loves you, he'll respect your decisions."
San shakes his head. "He's probably one of those romantics who spends his whole life searching for his soulmate. He's gonna be so disappointed — "
"Hush." Yeosang presses a soft kiss to San's lips. "Everything is going to be just fine. We're going to be just fine."
They both ignore the way their marks burn a little brighter.
***
Wooyoung flinches when he feels his soul mark start to burn, pressing his hand over his chest. What the hell does that mean?
He pulls at the neck of his hoodie to look at the familiar blocky name, surprised to find it glowing a faint red against his skin.
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"What are you doing?" his roommate Yunho asks, confusion evident in his voice.
"What does it mean when your soul mark burns red?" Wooyoung asks in return. Yunho frowns slightly.
"I've heard about them turning grey. That means your soulmate is hurt or dying. But I haven't ever heard of them being red... does it hurt?"
"Yeah." Wooyoung rubs at his chest. Yunho seems at a loss, which concerns Wooyoung even more. Yunho is like a walking encyclopaedia for stuff like this, soulmates especially; he's been obsessed with them ever since they were kids. If he didn't know...
"I can ask Hongjoong hyung," Yunho says, pulling out his phone. Wooyoung nods and waits for the response.
After a few moments of snacking idly on the pretzels Yunho has brought with him to the table, he says,
"Hyung says it means your soulmate is in love with someone else."
Wooyoung blinks. What? "Is that... is that possible?"
"He says it's rare, but it happens."
"So..." Wooyoung wrings his hands together. "He doesn't love me?"
Yunho purses his lips. "I don't know, Woo."
Wooyoung scoffs, smiling bitterly. "Of course I get the soulmate who doesn't love me back. That's how it always goes, isn't it? This world is always out to get me."
"Woo," Yunho says softly, sadly. The younger shakes his head. He eyes the soul mark on Yunho's collarbone.
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It's normal. Fine. There's nothing wrong between Yunho and his soulmate.
"Whatever. It's fine. I'm going out."
"Be safe," Yunho tells him because he knows it's useless to try and stop him.
Wooyoung slips out the door without another word. He sighs, taking in a deep breath and shoving his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket.
