In response to Writing-prompt-s on tumblr, "Write a story beginning and ending with the same sentence, but the sentence has a completely different meaning each time.
/An/ This was oddly fun. I am complete utter victuuri trash right now so this kind of just happened. hope you like it.
A thousand times.
That was the oldest saying in the book; that a soul mate, a true soul mate, will choose you, and you them, a thousand times in a thousand different lifetimes.
I.
They were children the first time, two young, innocent children with no concept of the chaos that was being unleashed around them. The fighting between their two clans was meaningless chatter to the two boys as they played together chasing each other, the younger stubbornly refusing to be caught. Instead he'd dance just out of reach until the older was gasping for breath before turning around and tapping the top of the others head, neither boy knowing it was the last moment they'd have.
XV.
They started this life, their fifteenth as perfect strangers who'd pass in the night. During the day they went about their lives and respective responsibilities, both missing how the string on their fingers would draw them together, however briefly before they continued on their separate ways. They both felt the moment their string snapped, a speeding carriage, a rescue just out of time, brown eyes urging blue to stay open just a moment longer please I promise you'll be okay you have to!
LXVII.
The sixty-seventh life was one of scandal and promise. They'd meet under cover of the same darkness, stealing kisses and moments of adoration when they could. Those around them may not choose them, but they certainly chose each other.
CIL.
One hundred and forty-nine was definitely one to remember. That was the lifetime in which matched souls were drawn by song. They were stubborn in this lifetime, not realising how their songs were drawn the same, but still being different. They may not have understood, but over time the song became secondary as they resolved to make their own song, their own history, together.
CCLXXXII.
This life was one of the easier ones. Souls found each other in marks they were born with, though denial and such made such fate a challenge. They were teens in this life, when their marks drew them in, bleeding hearts decorating their hips. A lifetime far too short and with far too much sorrow.
IXD.
The lifetime that promised to make up for two hundred and eighty-two. This was the lifetime of shared scars. Where a mark upon one would be found on the other. They were grown in this life, when they finally found one another. Covered in scars from adventurous childhoods and rebellious youths, but filled with a beauty on the canvassed skin they shared. This was a lifetime of devotion and adoration, a lifetime of worship and of protection. This was four hundred and ninety-one.
DCLXIV.
Six hundred and sixty-four was a lifetime the fates could never understand. Souls were born missing colours, and when they met they shared these colours and together found the spectrum. But despite this ingenious concept on the fates part, Humans tried to force certain souls apart. It was like the sixty-seventh again, only more tragic. Soul's who refused their halves were granted sanctum while others who chose each other were granted executions. It only occurred within similar souls, souls with the full rain bowed spectrum, not souls with the pinks, blues and shades. This was not the plan they fates had in mind but they couldn't help but admire the souls that would choose each other in spite of such severe adversity.
DCCLV.
Seven-five-five was a lifetime of drastic interest. If one soul changed their hair, the others eyes would change to match. This lifetime was started with natural tones but by the time the two reached adulthood one would spend his days with eyes as silver as the moon, while the other's shone like onyx stones set amongst his pale skin. However in the years before they found their half, they would spend days with vibrant reds, greens, pinks, even white once, these paling in comparison the molten gold vengeance the younger pulled in response to the weeks he spent terrifying the children and elders of his home with his fully white sclera. It was another life of chasing and games. A better life.
CCMXXXIX.
Now this, THIS was a lifetime the fates could get behind. It was a lifetime of shared thought, but only when thoughts concerned the other soul. The fates personal favourite moment was one that occurred while the older was celebrating his coming of age in the company of his parents. Early in the year he had competed nationally and earned gold in the Figure-Skating world series and earned himself enough notoriety that he had a rather large, and daresay, eccentric fan base. The fan made images and content were a good laugh on occasion, but why on earth would his soul mate, now of all fucking times be reading some incredibly detailed and incredibly graphic erotic fiction with him in it?
M.
And here it was, the lifetime that the fates had been holding out for all those years. They kept it simple this time; a souls first verbal contact would initiate a mark on their other, and vice versa. The younger was named Yuri in this lifetime, and like the eight hundred and thirty-ninth, he and his soul mate were skaters again. They were thrown together in the years Grand Prix, but after Yuri lost faith with in himself he burnt out in his performance. He had often looked up to the older as the leader in their shared field, Victor, his name was, but when the older offered to take a photo, simply assuming he was a fan he was too taken to notice the slight burning on the inside of his wrist. He kept his response short and rather terse, a brief 'no' before turning on his heel. He never looked back, but if he had he might have seen Victor clutching his own wrist and frozen in complete astonishment.
It was some time after that they were brought together again, The older being far too stubborn to allow it to end in such a manner. He took up the position of Yuri's coach on the ice, in part to make up for his transgression earlier in their acquaintance, and because after the emotion Yuri brought to Victor's own free skate, he simply could not think of anyone else. It was a long process, this lifetime. A mix of the chases and sorrow of the earliers but entwined with the joys and carefree moments. It was several months before the younger began to grant leeway but Victor would always meet him where he could, with the exception of his impulse at the Cup of China. He had no explanation for that lapse in judgment.
Said lapse turned out in his favour in the end, finally breaking the ice and allowing them to discuss their shared mark. Two pairs of skates set back to back, the left two mirroring the right in a sort of zig-zag. It burned slowly at first, in the tentative months that brought them together but even the smallest sparks can wind up burning in the most brilliant of blazes. And even if Yuri had his moments of doubt, and Victor his moments of weakness, there was one thought that they would always circle back to in regards to each other, that no mater what circumstance, no matter what lifetime, one would always, always, choose the other.
A thousand times.
