A/N: The first fic for my "Destined flames" series, which will only have Soulmate AUs, this one is entirely AU. There are no supernatural elements involved, some characters that are no longer in the show will come into play and, of course, it's a slow burn.

I mixed three soulmate prompts because it's much more interesting that way, so this fic is based on the following prompt: "Soulmate AU where you have words said by your soulmate printed on you wrist, but they can either be the words your soulmate says the minute they realize they love you, the first words they ever say to you or their last, and you won't know until they say them."

= As of January 2019, this story is ON HOLD, and so it will be picked up once some of the on-going stories are finished. =

Chapter 1

She moves to town with her family in the beginning of senior year to have a fresh start, or at least it's what Stiles has been hearing from everyone since then. It's two weeks into the school year when she marches those hallways for the first time, turning heads as she walks by. All around her, there are nothing but whispers and sneaky glances that she doesn't meet. Lydia Martin is a vision, she knows that. Everyone knows that, really, but her days of pretending to be popular are gone now. Have been gone since…

No! You will not cry, Lydia! She fastens her pace, almost runs until she finds the nearest bathroom and locks herself in one of the stalls. Putting down the lid of the toilet and sitting down, tears start staining Lydia's cheeks and the girl covers her mouth with both her hands to try and contain her sobs. Not in front of them. She allows herself to cry silently for a few minutes; at least if things go as usual she'll only cry again at night instead of throughout the day. When she calms down and feels like she can breathe again, she leaves the stall and washes her face as if the water will take away her pain. It never does.

Lydia looks at herself in the mirror. Two years ago, she'd find her hair immaculately curled, her makeup perfectly painting her face and her outfit on point, certainly a dress or a skirt too short for her parents' liking. Right now she thinks she has never looked more like herself, her true self at least. Her long strawberry blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail, more naturally straight than curly today, and there's no makeup at all, just the blush from her crying giving some color to her cheeks. As for her clothes, she's wearing a long white shirt with laced flowers, short sleeved, along and viridian leggings. And heels aren't a part of her wardrobe anymore, so today she's wearing a pair of beige sandals. Even if she couldn't be any more different from the Lydia Martin she was before, she's still beautiful. And most importantly, she feels comfortable. That's something she couldn't have said two years ago.

The only thing in her outfit she finds could be relatable to her old self might be her necklace, one that she wears under her clothes at home not to hurt anyone anymore. She looks down at it, the light coming from one of the restroom windows glistening on the silver ring she has on the thin silver chain around her neck. Playing with it with her fingers, she closes her eyes for a second. If only you were here… She's startled by the bell, loud and annoying calling all students to their classes. Taking a deep breath and recomposing, she walks out into the hallway only to nearly be knocked out when someone comes running and she can't step away in time…

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Stiles, who had gotten distracted talking to his best friend and only realized he was in the wrong side of the building when the bell rang, decided that running to get to his classroom would be a good idea. Obviously not, since he's Stiles and his flailing limbs have never really made him that much of a coordinated person. More so, actually, that he just bumped into a girl making her purse fall to the floor, and if it wasn't for his quick reflexes, and thankfully he's got those – sometimes, that is -, the girl could have fallen too. He grabs her arms to steady her even before looking at her properly, cursing himself internally because he always does this. He always has to do something stupid or he wouldn't be him and his day wouldn't have started yet.

"Oh, sorry!" he apologizes, finally looking at the girl. Silence follows for a few seconds and it's hard to tell which of them is more awestruck. Stiles could swear his heart faltered at the sight of her. Beautiful hair, beautiful eyes, beautiful everything really. She's short, barely reaching his shoulders and he's not sure what it is in the way she's looking back at him but it's leaving him breathless. And then, paying closer attention, he notices that her eyes are a little puffed and the only thing he can think of is that maybe she had been crying. Or perhaps she hadn't slept properly and that could be why her eyes seem a little swollen. He can't really tell why but it bothers him. "Hey, are you okay?"

Lydia inhales sharply, her mind filling with thoughts and completely blank at the same time. No, it can't be. She looks at him from head to toe, attentive. He's much taller than her, a little built even if his t-shirt is one size too big to be too noticeable. His hair is spiked and pointing in various directions and there are moles on his cheeks and neck. His eyes, though, his eyes are what catch her attention. She doesn't know what's so special about them, but looking at the boy is making her heart beat a little faster. She realizes, after another few seconds of awkward silence, that she hasn't answered him. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He gets down and grabs her purse for her, returning it to the girl and scratching the back of his neck, blushing involuntarily. "I'm really sorry. I didn't see you there."

If he hadn't given Lydia her purse, she's not sure she could have picked it up herself. She's pretty much frozen in place. "I uh-" For a second she forgets how she's supposed to say words, make them vocal. She shakes her head swiftly, rearranging her thoughts. "It's okay. I'm okay."

He raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. If the girl was crying, she probably didn't need another reason to feel sad, whatever the reason for her crying was. "Are you sure?"

She purses her lips in a thin smile. "Yeah, I'm sure. I should go…" She motions to a group of students entering one of the classrooms, the one she's supposed to go to right now.

"Oh right," he remembers. You were running for a reason, dumbass. "I should go too…"

Lydia nods and purses her lips in a small smile again before starting to walk away from the boy, who she assumes has already started running again by the loud thuds she can hear from behind her. Entering the classroom and sitting on one of the desks, Lydia takes a deep breath before glancing at her right wrist, not sure of what she's going to find.

You're sixteen when you get them, your soulmate's words, unless you are to meet them before that age. They appear in thin lines, like they were scribbled with a pencil, and only when your soulmate says them they turn into a tattoo, printed on your skin for eternity. It's not as easy as it seems though, finding your soulmate, because the words written down on your wrist can either be the words your soulmate says the minute they realize they love you, the first words they ever say to you or their last, and you won't know until they say them. And even before looking down at her arm, Lydia knows. She knows who he is and what it means because the boy said the words, words she has known by heart ever since she turned sixteen over a year ago, and sure enough she's marked, the words "Oh, sorry! Hey, are you okay?" tattooed in a beautiful black cursive font looking back at her, and all she can think is No, no, no, no.