A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to share another one-shot I wrote. I know most of you would rather I write a part 2 to Soulmates but for now this is what I have for you.

inspired by a post on tumblr: AU in which every time a person falls in love, a red line like a tally mark appears on their wrist. The tally marks turn black if their love is requited. The Tally marks become a scar when the one they love dies.

Also please don't hate me.


"Would you change anything?"

Paige's voice was no more than a whisper as she traced her finger over Emily's forearm. The light caress raised goosebumps along her skin and she leaned into Paige as they sat snuggled in her window seat, her back pressed against Paige's warm chest. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"The marks." Paige slid her arm against hers and turned them so their marks were visible. "If you could do anything to change them, would you?"

Emily stared at the three "tally" marks that smeared her skin as if a stroke of a brush had painted them horizontally across her wrist; two faint scars and a black one.

Would she change anything?

It's been years since she watched the color vanish from the two previous marks-turned-scars, much like the heart beats of the persons they belonged to.

Her gaze slid to the single black mark that grazed Paige's wrist, and then to the matching one on hers. She tried her best to block out her scarred marks but they were impossible to ignore.

"I would meet you sooner." She whispered. "If I could change anything, it's that I met you sooner."


Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?

This was a question Emily asked herself for the very first time five years ago, when the first red tally mark across her wrist had slowly started fading, the color seeming to leak into her flesh only to be replaced by a faint scar.

She knew what it meant when the crimson red of the tally disappeared, and she locked herself in her room, her mom's concerned voice ricocheting off the wooden door before it could reach her ears. She didn't want to see anybody, didn't want their questioning eyes burning into her skin while her tears stained her cheeks, her sobs wrecking through her body like a storm, leaving her breathless and gasping for air.

Alison's body was found a few days later buried under a shack on the outskirts of Ravenswood.

Her mom came into her room that night after watching countless reports of Alison's disappearance and the state in which the body was found. Emily was sitting in her window seat, her knees against her chest with her arms wrapped securely around them. She didn't look at her mom when the older woman stepped into her room, but she could feel the hesitancy and sadness that seemed to radiate off of her. Before her mom could say anything Emily whispered, her voice broken and raw, "I know."

She ran her finger over her wrist, and her mom understood.

The love mark had been Alison's.

Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?

No, she thought as she stared at the thin scar, It's not.

And for a while she believed it. She forced herself into thinking that she would never love again, that she could never love again. But just like the seasons, things change.

Fall came, bearing crunchy leaves and pumpkin spice galore; and with it a whirlwind of a girl with a wide mischievous smile and curls that bounced with every carefree step. She took Emily by surprise, her friendly nature sweeping Emily off her feet like the wind in August swept the leaves off the ground. They spent their days together, Maya with her video camera as she attempted to capture every moment, every second of every hour; and Emily was happy to go along with it, happy to get lost in the dark depths of Maya's eyes, in the heated caresses of their lips.

Before she knew it, a new tally mark formed. The crimson red line contrasted harshly beside her scar; a faint reminder of a love that use to be.

But it comforted her, knowing that she was still able to love.

Weeks passed and the mark on both girls wrists transformed from crimson to a deep jet-black; requited love.

It was strange for Emily, seeing the black stroke against her skin. She had been so used to the crimson tally that indicated how she felt about Alison. Her mark had never changed from crimson to black though, because her love for Alison had been unrequited.

But then Maya ran away, trouble seemed to follow her just as much as it followed Emily; except unlike her, Maya couldn't stay and face her problems.

So she ran. And every night she was gone, Emily traced the black tally, hoping that Maya would return.

Months passed and she still hadn't heard a word about Maya. Until one night, when the universe seemed to decide that one heartbreak wasn't enough; her heart was once again destroyed.

She hadn't seen her tally that night as she approached her house, too caught up in the nights events to focus on her wrist. It wasn't until she saw the ambulance turn the corner into her street that she ran. She spotted her mom and hurried over to her, her friends right behind her. The look in her mom's eyes, the sadness that seemed to radiate from her; it was all too familiar.

Emily didn't dare look at her wrist, but she knew the black mark would be nothing but a scar now.

Her mom spoke, sadness coating her words, "They found a body. They…they think it's Maya."

Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?

No.

She bawled as her knees caved under her weight.

It's better to never had loved at all.

Spencer's arms were the only things keeping her from collapsing to the ground as she watched the paramedics haul Maya's body away.

Why me?

Days passed and she couldn't take it. Couldn't stand to wake up every morning and walk past the house where Maya's blood stained the ground.

Haven't I learned my lesson?

She ran away to Haiti that summer, pounding her pain away under the scorching heat until she felt like she could breath again.

Am I not allowed to be happy?

When she returned home and walked past that house again, the agony hit her like a ton of bricks.

Why does everyone I love get ripped away from me?

She buried her heartbreak in alcohol that night, just like the pieces of her heart that were buried 6 feet under in cold, dark coffins.

Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?

She promised, she swore to herself, that she would never fall in love again.

And for a while it worked.

But then she met Paige.


If Maya had been a whirlwind that swept her off her feet then Paige could only be described as a hurricane, slamming her onto her back and knocking the wind right out of her lungs.

They met at Stanford, both girls having gotten a full ride swimming scholarship that neither could have turned down. For Emily it was a fresh start. For Paige it was a chance to continue doing what she loved.

Paige was a charming brunette that looked at Emily with eyes so bright they vanished the darkness that had long ago found a home inside of her. She had an enchanting smile; a smile so mellifluous it sent a tremor through Emily's whole body and set her heart racing.

Emily didn't want to accept the way Paige made her feel. The scars on her heart were still raw and she didn't want to add more to her already mauled heart.

But Paige had no restrictions on the way she felt, and almost instantly a fresh crimson tally covered her previously bare wrist. She understood why Emily was hesitant in getting closer to her, and Paige was patient enough to let her come to terms with the way she felt. This left them both drowning in a bittersweet state of friendship.

But they were never meant to be just friends, much like the moon wasn't meant to fade away during the day; It was always there, indefinite against the beaming afternoon sun.

Emily hadn't even been aware of how deeply she felt about Paige. But her heart knew how she felt even when she didn't want to admit it to herself.

It wasn't until one night after having spent the evening badly singing karaoke, when they collapsed on the floor of Emily's apartment from laughing too hard with tears of happiness streaming down their cheeks, that she stared into Paige's warm chocolate eyes. Paige smiled at her, a sweet amorous smile that sent shivers down Emily's spine.

It was that smile and the love that seemed to flicker from Paige's eyes that tore through Emily's walls like dynamite. And she knew without a doubt, that the next time they glanced at their wrists, there would be matching black marks across them.


"Do you believe that your past shapes you into the person you are today?" Paige asked.

Emily thought about it as she took Paige's hand in hers. Who would she be if she hadn't met Alison and Maya? Would she still be the same person she was? or would she be a completely different person?

"I think so." She sighed.

Paige pressed a firm kiss against her bare shoulder, "I would still love you. It wouldn't matter if I had met you in high school or middle school or if we had been best friends since we were little. I would always end up falling for you."

"How do you know?"

"Because we have a connection." Paige murmured. "We're inevitable."


"What time is Paige suppose to be here Emily?" Hanna's impatient voice rang through the phones speaker. Paige was suppose to pick Hanna, Spencer and Aria up from the airport, it was one of those rare occurrences when all of the girls were able to spend Thanksgiving together in California.

Three years since Emily and Paige first met and they were now living together in a small apartment not too far away from Stanford. It was their last year studying there and both girls had bright futures ahead of them, their friends not far behind in succeeding in their careers.

"She's not there yet? She was suppose to be there 20 minutes ago. Have you tried calling her?" Emily paced around their apartment, her bare feet silently padding across the living room.

"Yeah but she's not picking up." Hanna complained.

"She's probably stuck in traffic." Aria piped in.

"or maybe she had second thoughts when she realized she'd be stuck with Hanna in her car for 40 minutes." Emily could literally hear the smirk that would likely be grazing Spencer's face.

"Guys could you try to not kill each other before we even leave the airport?" Aria reprimanded, sounding like her patience was wearing thin.

"I'm sure she'll be there soon." Emily said, her eyes flicking to the clock that hung on the wall.


Paige smiled as turned into the airport, she could just make out the figures of her three friends standing outside waiting for her. Hanna seemed to spot the blue of her Prius because she started jumping up and down, her arms waving crazily around. She chuckled as she switched lanes, failing to notice the car that was speeding quickly towards her. She lifted her hand off the steering wheel and waved at Hanna to let her know she had seen her. It wasn't until she heard the screeching of tires that she glanced to the left, her eyes widening as the front of a pick up truck slammed into the side of her car.

The crunching of metal.

The stench of smoke.

Panicked shouts and distant crying.

Those were the last things she heard before she was swallowed by a heavy darkness.


Hanna clung to Spencer as she watched the firefighters pry the drivers side door of Paige's car off. She held her breath as the firefighter pressed his finger against Paige's bleeding neck. Her stomach suck with dread and her vision blurred as the firefighter closed his eyes and shook his head.


Emily picked up her phone as it rang. "Spencer? Is Paige still not there?" She frowned when all she could hear was sobbing. "Spencer?"

"Emily." Spencer's voice was thick and muffled, the way it did when she had been crying.

"Spencer…what's wrong?" Emily clutched her phone tightly in her hand, her knuckles turning white with the pressure.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, "It's Paige."

Emily's blood froze in her veins, her heart clenching painfully as she held her breath.

"She…there was an accident." Spencer sobbed, no longer able to hold her composure. "She's.."

Emily's phone clattered to the ground as it slipped from her fingers and she fell to the cold hard ground on her knees as they gave out under her.

Tears streamed down her face as she glanced down at her wrist, and even with her tears blurring her vision she saw the black color of her mark slowly fade into a faint scar.

Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?


I'm sorry!