WARNINGS: Major character death. Sad ending. This is not my usual fluff!
The mangled corpse lay on the beach, his violet eyes staring unblinkingly up at the night sky. A scarf blew gently in the wind, fluttering across the sand until it landed in the water.
This was a crime that even Sherlock Holmes could never solve. As hours passed, the tide came and went, sweeping away the scarf. There were no footprints, no fingerprints, no DNA, nothing to explain how the man's neck was broken and his arm ripped from his body. Whatever it was, it must have been terrible and strong. The dead man's mouth lay open in a silent scream, unable to tell anyone what had killed him.
But one young man knew. And he was driving away as quickly as he could.
...
..
.
Four months later and a thousand miles away
"No! This can't be happening," were not the first words anyone wanted to hear come out of their soulmate's mouth. Especially if it was accompanied by a look of utter shock and horror.
Yet there Arthur was, standing next to the coffee shop where he worked, his soulmate watch on the ground and his actual soulmate looking ready to vomit in terror. The young man took two hasty steps backward. He looked… unkempt was probably the kindest word Arthur could think of. His clothes were dirty, his hair was greasy, he needed a good shave, and it smelled like he hadn't showered in days. Arthur had always been a pessimist about romance, but even he had hoped for a soulmate who was a little more attractive than this dirty hobo.
"I beg your pardon?" he demanded tartly.
His soulmate blinked and the look of fear began to subside. "Oh, you're actually… you're actually… him." The man laughed nervously. He glanced down at the fallen watches and bent to pick them up. Watches in hand, he stood up and looked around in all directions, relaxing only when he saw that the street was still empty.
Arthur frowned. "Were you expecting someone else?"
"No, I just…" the man young shook his head and glanced over his shoulder again. He gave Arthur a half-hearted smile, revealing a set of surprisingly straight white teeth. "Just really need a cup of coffee, I guess."
"Well, you've come to the right place," Arthur replied dryly. He opened the door, grabbed his apron from the hook on the wall as he walked behind the counter, and ignored his coworker's look of concern.
The man immediately surveyed his surroundings, relaxing again when he saw that the shop was empty other than a student studying by the window. He finally turned his attention to the menu written in chalk above the counter. His eyes quickly skimmed the options. "Oooh, could I have a large hazelnut mochaccino with extra cream?"
"Of course." With a speed born of long practice, Arthur made the hot drink, mixing together the frothy milk, chocolate syrup, and two shots of expresso. To his surprise, his soulmate actually handed over a twenty to pay for his sugary coffee. Arthur handed it back. "We get three free drinks per day. It can be one of mine," he offered. If the watches were right, their destinies were tied together. Not to mention the poor lad looked like he could use all the financial help he could get.
"Really? Thanks!" The man flashed his attractive smile again. Well, if he was stuck with a hobo for a soulmate, Arthur thought to himself, at least he had one with manners and nice teeth.
"Who is that?" his coworker whispered as the man sat with his back to the far wall, giving him an excellent view of the entrance and the door that led into the kitchen. He sipped his drink and kept a careful gaze on both doors.
Arthur held up his bare wrist in silent reply.
"Oh, no." His coworker stared in shock and horror. She glanced at the young man sipping his coffee and grimaced. "Maybe… maybe he cleans up nicely?"
"One can only hope," Arthur replied, making himself a cup of tea. He considered just staying behind the counter and working his shift as normal. But he would have to talk to his soulmate eventually, and it was probably best to have a quiet chat with him before the lunchtime rush. Taking over his cup of tea, he warily joined his soulmate at the far table. "I just realized that we haven't even done introductions yet," Arthur said, too polite to add that it would be helpful to know the man's name so he could stop referring to him as 'that dirty hobo' in his head.
The dirty hobo blinked. "Oh, yeah. Good point! I'm Alfred F. Jones."
"Arthur Kirkland. Pleased to meet you."
Alfred snorted and took a sip of his mochaccino. "Dude, somehow I doubt that. I'm not really the greatest catch at the moment," he said, gesturing towards his dirty clothes and greasy hair. Even though he seemed far more relaxed than earlier, he kept glancing up at the doorways every few seconds, scanning the room absentmindedly even as he continued talking with Arthur.
"You know, you could have cleaned up a bit for your soulmate day," Arthur replied, somewhat peevishly, though he was relieved to know that the man's current appearance wasn't normal. It was hard to tell what Alfred would look like after a shower, shave, and change of clothes, but Arthur was starting to feel more optimistic. He could see tanned skin beneath the dirt and a handsome chin under the stubble. Plus, those startlingly blue eyes showed promise. Arthur had a weakness for baby blues.
Casting his gaze down at his bare wrist, Alfred cringed. "Yeah, I sorta lost track of time. I've been dealing with some stuff lately."
"Something more important than your soulmate?"
Alfred nodded, a haunted look in his eyes. "I've got a stalker that wants to kill me."
"What?" Arthur nearly spit out his tea in shock.
"It's gonna want to kill you too, if I'm not careful," Alfred continued, his voice numb and flat. "Look, I'm sorry. We should exchange numbers. I'll give you a call if I ever get this thing sorted out. And if I don't…" he looked away from Arthur and his voice hitched. "I just hope you find someone nice."
"You're… leaving?" Arthur asked. "Just like that?"
"Trust me when I say it's for the best," Alfred said, so fervently that Arthur actually believed him. They exchanged numbers and Arthur noticed that Alfred had a very nice mobile. What sort of hobo had such a nice phone? He sat in confusion as he watched Alfred finish off his drink and get ready to leave. When Alfred reached the door, he turned back and gave Arthur a bittersweet smile. "You're gorgeous, you know."
And with that, he left.
Feeling numb, Arthur stood up and took his position behind the counter, unsure how he was going to explain to everyone he knew that his soulmate had basically dumped him with an it's-not-you-it's-my-stalker speech. Lost in his dark, depressing thoughts, it took Arthur a few moments to notice the commotion outside. Police car lights flashed right outside the shop and he could hear shouting. Arthur ran over to the door and stepped outside just in time to see a cop arresting Alfred on the sidewalk.
"Please, please, you can't lock me up! It's going to kill me," Alfred begged pitifully.
"You have the right to remain silent," the cop said, ignoring Alfred's outburst as he adjusted the handcuffs. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights?"
"Please, let me call my mom! This is just a mistake."
"Sir, do you understand your rights?"
Glancing around desperately, Alfred caught Arthur's gaze. His blue eyes widened and his lip quivered. "Arthur! You gotta bail me out. I've only got two days before it gets here!" he yelled.
"Just put him in the car, we'll deal with the Miranda rights later," the other cop said, rolling his eyes at Alfred's heart-rending pleas.
Arthur stood frozen and silent as he watched the cops drive away with his soulmate. He jumped when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder; he turned around to see it was just his coworker.
She gave him a sympathetic look. "So he's a hobo and a criminal?"
"That would appear to be the case," Arthur admitted, feeling his heart sink even lower. Everyone knew the watches were always right, so why had his gone so horribly wrong?