The day I first met my soul mate was also my 18th birthday. I woke up that morning with a sense of excitement in the pit of my stomach. I jumped out of bed and rushed to pull on my jeans and a shirt, absentmindedly forgetting to slide my mobile into my pocket before I left the room and headed downstairs. The living room was quiet as only my sister Morgana was there. She sat in my father's arm chair, engrossed in a magazine, headphones in her ears. I crept up behind her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

'Damn it, Arthur!' she cried out as her iPod slid off her lap and landed with a thud on the wooden floor. I laughed as she bent to pick it up. The screen was dusty, and I could see her irritated expression clearly in the screen.

'Aren't you going to say Happy Birthday?' I grinned, leaning on the back of the armchair and giving her a pack on the forehead.

'What?' she replied, momentarily confused. She wiped off the dust with the sleeve of her cardigan and looked up at me. 'Oh, right. Happy birthday…' she forced a smile onto her lips, but her eyes betrayed her true feelings.

'What's up?'

'Nothing, I… Leon broke up with me.' I stood up straight and glanced uncomfortably around the room. Leon and I had been friends since primary school. We had met one morning in detention; he was there for throwing water balloons at the English teacher and I for drawing on a classmates face while he was asleep. We had gotten on straight away, throwing rolled up balls of paper at the other students and whispering to each other when the teacher's back was turned. Through high school we had been inseparable, tackling girls and sports and puberty in general. We had picked up a few other's in the process; Gwaine, the captain of the rugby team, had knocked my front tooth out on my first day. Percival had followed him into the group, followed by Gwen and Freya. Then one day, Leon said he'd met a girl, and of course I nagged at him to tell me who she was. When he gave my sisters name, I flipped. I punched him square in the jaw and told him to 'get the hell out of my house'. He'd come round the next day with beer and video games, and things had been all right since then. But now that their relationship had ended, I had to admit I was rather torn.

'Oh?' I looked down at my little sister, a frown on my face. Her deep blue eyes had begun to fill with tears, and she quickly swiped them away before any could fall.

'Uhm… it's fine, you know. We both agreed it was best, you know?' She looked up at me, and I nodded for her to go on. 'It just wasn't working out.' Glancing back up, she painted a false smile on her face and looked over my shoulder.

'Hello, daddy.' She said, cheerfully. Spinning around, I saw my father stood in the doorway, his arms folded sternly across his chest.

'Morning, sweetheart. Arthur.' He nodded. 'Everything alright?'

'Of course. Everything's fine.' As my father approached me, he placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.

'Good, good. Do you have any plans for tonight?' he asked, a look of eagerness in his eyes. If the last few years were anything to go by, my father would want to throw a party. A tiresome affair that would consist of stale beer, a dozen of my father's workmates and one or two family members. I dreaded the thought of being sat in a smoke-filled room, crowded by old men that smelled of ale and whisky, and I quickly decided that I rather fancied spending the rest of the day alone. Looking my father in the eye, I slowly nodded my head.

'Sorry, the guys are taking me out.' I lied, hoping the beads of sweat I felt on my forehead were just my imagination. A pang of guilt rushed through my veins as my father's eyes dulled. In an instant his hand was dropped to his side, and he had moved a significant distance from me and Morgana. I quickly made my excuses and left the room, heading up the staircase and into my bedroom.

My room is fairly large, I suppose. The walls had been painted dark blue when I was a child, and faded pen-marks and stickers were dotted around, mostly near to the floor. Opposite the door was the window, draped with grey curtains. The view it gave was nothing special, it allowed me to see into the bedroom of the next door house, but other than that it was only a grey wall. My bed was behind the door, and next to it was a bedside cabinet. A handful of my favourite books were piled up high, and I shuffled through them, searching for something to distract my mind. A knock on my door startled me, and I almost dropped the book I held in my hand. Looking around, I saw my sister.

'So, you're going out with the guys, are you?' she questioned, stepping into my room. I nodded timidly, my eyes returning to the three books I held. 'Leon never mentioned anything this morning,' she continued. 'So where are you really going?'

'Hmmm?' Morgana raised an eyebrow, and I rolled my eyes in response.

'Look, I just want a few hours to myself, Anne,' I groaned. 'Is that too much to ask?' As she headed for the door, Morgana smiled over her shoulder.

'Not at all, brother.'

I walked into the small, corner café with my mother's tattered copy of The Scarlett Letter in my frozen hands. The café was mostly empty; in one corner a mother sat with her three young children, the youngest, a girl, asleep in her arms while the others fought over a small, plastic toy. I glanced absentmindedly around at the other customers as I headed for the counter. With a smile, I greeted Gwen, my usual waitress and Morgana's best friend.

'Afternoon,' she smiled as I approached. Guinevere Le Fay was a creature of wonder. Her hair was a rich shade of mahogany. It flowed in waves to adorn her glowing, porcelain-like skin. Her eyes, framed by long lashes, were a bright, emerald-green and seemed to brighten the world. A straight nose, full lips - she seemed the picture of perfection. Had she smiled, the world would sigh with contentment. Had she laughed, the world would laugh with her. And had she wept, the whole world would want to comfort her. 'Happy birthday!'

'Hey, shhhh. I don't want the whole town to know.' I grinned widely, setting the book on the counter. 'I'll have a coffee, please.'

'Certainly.'

I took a seat next to the window, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sunlight. Carefully prising the plastic lid from the Styrofoam cup I held in my hands, I took a sip of the coffee, wincing as the burning liquid touched my tongue and slithered down my throat. I opened The Scarlett Letter to the first chapter and made myself comfortable as I began to read.

'Wow, you really like that book, huh?' Looking up, I saw Gwen smiling down at me. I glanced to the clock. Half past seven. I'd been reading for almost five hours.

'Yeah, well it was my mothers,' I stated, softly. 'She used to read it all the time.'

'Is it any good?'

'Brilliant.' I smiled, as she turned and headed back to the counter. I glanced up to the clock once more, to determine how long I should remain in the café when I spotted a lone figure hunched over a sketch book.

He was sat at a table on the other side of the café, a large, yellow mug in his hands. My eyes roamed from his face to his feet, taking in every small, unimportant detail, and then returned to those piercing blue eyes. He dressed like a college boy, so I could only assume that he was one. He wore a baggy green jumper that swamped his slender frame, and a pair of faded, grey jeans that were much the same. His skin was almost pure white, or at least it seemed that way in the bright, blinding light of the afternoon. Atop his head was a grey beanie, and as my eyes slowly returned to his face, I was alarmed to find the stranger looking back at me, a small smile on his rosy lips. I held his gaze for a moment longer than I usually would have had he been an average-looking human being, but this man was breathtaking. He emanated beauty from every small, unseen pore on his body. Gazing into his eyes, I desperately tried to hide the deep red that was slowly appearing on my cheeks, and I timidly returned his smile before looking away.