Clint first met his soulmate when he was 14. It was right after a show, and the audience was leaving. He was sitting in a dark corner, on top of a storage cabinet, watching them go. No one saw him though. They never did. Always distracted by the bright lights and colors in the circus. They never saw the archer boy in the shadows. Until a girl approached him. She was around his age, maybe a bit older, with dark brown hair that was held in curls with way to much hairspray, a knit pink dress under a white turtleneck, and clunky, plastic, salmon jewelry. He could spot a hint of dark, blue-gray at the top of her turtleneck. Her Words. She looked up at him with a bright smile. He looked down at her, trying to not show emotion. Namely, his surprise.
"What do ya need?"
The girl blinked. She smiled again, but it looked a bit sad, and more than a little strained.
"I just wanted to say that you looked really cool out there! You're skills are amazing!"
Clint blinked, his hand slapping over his collarbone as he felt his ears turn bright red.
Those words. He knew those words. Knew them as well as anything, had read the lilac print so freaking often since Mom and Dad died that he could write the phrase in his sleep. Upside-down and backwards. It was what had kept him going. There was someone out there who loved him, and when they met, they would think he was amazing. Now here that someone is. He stared at her. She stared back, with an odd expression. Suddenly, her eyes widened.
"Judging by your reaction, you're my soulmate?"
Clint stared unblinking, internally panicking.
"Hey, soulmate, you alright?"
Clint edged backwards, and in a single, fluid movement, grabbed the rafter above his head, pulled himself up, and ran.
"Wait! Please, wait!" she called. But he wasn't listening.
Clint whistled as he walked down the sidewalk, hands in his pocket. Having just finished a mission, Fury granted him a week off to kick back and relax. He looked around at the beautiful scenery. It was a quaint little town, where pretty much everyone knew each other. Clint stopped whistling as he entered a coffee shop named Arabican Nights. He smiled at the pun. He glanced up at the menu, pulling out his wallet.
Hmmm…. What to get, what to get. The triple chocolate frappuccino looks good… oh, but so does the spiced espresso…
"Hello sir, welcome to Arabican Nights! What can I get for you today?"
Clint turned his attention to the young, red-headed barista who smiled cheerily at him. She wore a short black skirt with matching flats, a golden name tag that read Felicia and a bright scarlet shirt that clashed horribly with her hair.
"Hmm… can I please have the triple chocolate Frappuccino? A medium, please."
"Of course sir! Would you like anything else with that?"
"No, that'll be all, thanks."
"Alrighty then! That will be $3.75 please."
Clint wordlessly handed the bubbly teen a five as she ran him up.
"Okie-dokie! Here's your receipt! Just wait over there and Cat will get you your drink! Enjoy!"
Clint walked over to a separate counter where a grumpy girl with bleached hair, the ends of which were dyed pastel pink and purple, was making his drink. Like the other barista, she appeared to be in her late teens, definitely no older than twenty. She too wore a scarlet and black uniform, although she had paired it with plenty of heavy jewelry.
"Gah!"
Clint turned towards the shout, where a brunette women, likely only a couple years older than himself, had tripped over a cracked in the tile floor. In a flash, he caught her falling drink, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her to him. He stared into her wide, gray, eyes that reflected the surprise he felt. She blinked at him, a blush quickly growing on her cheeks. He held her up, waiting for her to steady herself. She quickly did, and took a step back. He smiled at her, offering her her drink.
"I feel like a just walked into the lead male roll in some sort of rom-com." He confessed.
She laughed, accepting back her drink. They took a moment to assess each other, the adrenaline of the moment fading. The woman wore faded blue jeans, a large black belt, black and white chucks, a white tank, and a red, plaid flannel shirt. Small, silver hoops hung from her ears, while matching bangles dangled around her left wrist. Cobalt words were on the side of her neck, directly below her right ear spelling out what do ya need?
His eyes widened at the words. She couldn't possibly be…
"What's your name? I'm Laura."
"Uh… Clint."
"Nice to meet you, Clint."
"The pleasure is mine."
The pair walked out, sitting on a bench outdoors. Clint smiled as the sun came out, warming the towns' inhabitants.
"So, Laura…"
"Yes?"
"You from here?"
"Ha! No, I'm just wandering. I got my degree and took to the road."
"I see. Do you like that life?"
"For now. One day, I hope to find my soulmate again and get married, get a house, have a few kids… you know?"
Clint let out a breath.
"Yeah. What do you mean, find your soulmate, again?"
"I met him once, when I was fifteen. I went to the circus for my birthday, and there he was, one of the performers. I tried talking to him, but once he realized we were soulmates, he freaked out and took off. I'd like to meet him again, figure out why he was scared of me."
Clint sighed, and closed his eyes.
"I wasn't scared of you Laura. I was scared of change, and how you were going to change my life. Honestly, I've been hoping to meet you again, too."
Laura looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed.
"Pardon?"
Clint bit his lip, and shrugged off his jacket, careful not to spill any of his drink. Then, holding his drink it one hand, he used the other to pull down the collar of his t-shirt, revealing the violet words. Laura smiled, and traced them.
"You know, I thought it was you. Especially after you kept staring at my words with that look on your face."
"Well then, it's good to meet you again, Laura. I apologize for my abrupt departure last time."
"It's good to meet you again too. So tell me dear Soulmate, what have you been up too?"
"Well…"