It's my amazingly wonderful friend Natalie's birthday, so to celebrate I have written 3 fics for her. You can just read them as one-shots if you want, but I would appreciate it so much, and I'm sure she would also, if you said Happy Birthday to her. She is such a gorgeous person, and I feel honoured to be her friend.

She is one of the nicest, kindest, most caring, loveliest people I have ever had the joy of speaking with, and I hope to be her friend for many years to come.

So, Happy Birthday Natalie. Best Wishes and thank you for everything :D

Do you ever feel like someone's watching you? Like there's this presence; you can feel eyes on you, but you don't know where they are, where the stares are actually coming from. If they even exist.

It happened to me.

At first, I thought I was imagining it. Sleep deprivation, hunger, something logical that was causing these...illusions. I brushed it off, ignored it; blamed it on stress and tried to forget about it.

But it never did. Not really. It would stop; I would start to forget; too caught up in my own troubles to think about it much. When I got to that point, they'd start again. This went on for months, and I began to think I was going crazy. I was so close, so tempted to admit myself into a mental hospital...when I saw him.

I didn't really notice him, at first. I was on the train heading into town for some essentials.

I didn't see the way his expression changed, didn't see the way his cerulean eyes stared, until I turned around.

I thought I had heard someone calling my name, so I turned around; anticipating an old friend or acquaintance. I didn't expect to see him.

He was gorgeous, of that much I was certain from the first moment I set eyes on him. His raven black hair was flipped to the side, in a style very similar to mine, only on the right. Bright blue eyes caught my own, boring into me as though he could see into my soul. He wasn't smiling, his face held more of a confused expression. It seemed like he was searching me, looking for something; something I knew not what.

I'd never seen him before; but I could feel a pull, deep inside my chest. It was almost like he held a string and was luring me towards him.

Caught up in my own thoughts, I hadn't noticed him walking over towards me until he was standing right in front of me. I was brought from my reverie when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was warm; perplexing when inside the carriage felt as cold as a freezer.

"Excuse me...I know this is probably terribly impolite, and I promise I don't usually just approach people...but have we met before?"

I felt my breath hitch, and I found myself stumbling like an idiot. Something I didn't usually do, certainly not around strangers.

"Uh, I...ah...I don't think so." I didn't remember meeting him before, and I would remember having met someone like him; however he looked incredibly familiar.

"I'm sorry, you just look familiar. Sorry for bothering you." He turned to walk away, and I found myself reaching for his arm.

"I don't think we've met before, but that doesn't mean I don't want to meet you again." Smooth Dan. Real smooth. My only hope was that he wouldn't find me creepy. I didn't know what it was, but there was definitely something about him.

"Are you flirting with me, sir?" He asked, and I felt a blush rising on my cheeks.

"Because..." He continued, pulling out a pen from his pocket. "It's working."

He reached for my hand and I held it out for him. He wrote down some numbers, but I wasn't concentrating on them. My skin tingled where his fingers touched, and I couldn't shake the feeling it was right, somehow.

"I'm free later, if you want to meet again." He said, putting the pen in his back pocket.

I nodded, words failing to leave the safety of my mouth.

"Until then..." He still had a hold of my hand, and he lifted it up to meet his lips. He kissed my knuckles softly, his lips brushing lightly against them. The contact burned my skin, but not in a way that physically hurt. It was a flurry of heat; so deep I could feel it in my bones.

Yet when his lips left my hand, when he turned and left to return to his own seat; the warmth, the heat was gone. All feeling from the brush of his lips had departed, and my hand felt cold; colder than it was before I even saw him.

I sat down on my seat, reaching for my phone. I looked at my hand and typed the numbers in. However, it soon came to my attention I didn't know his name. I was almost tempted to give it up then. After all, he could be a murderer or a puppy-killer.

And yet, it didn't seem possible. I'd seen him face to face, and I found it hard to believe someone so adorable could do any bad things. And even disregarding looks, I felt like I knew him. Like I'd met him before. Deep down I knew he wasn't a bad person.

Maybe that's why I saved his number anyway. Or maybe it was because he was a cute guy and I was sick of being lonely. Either way, I'll never know.

I did want to find out his name though, so I messaged him.

To Unknown: Hey, I was putting your number in my phone and I realised I don't know your name.

I waited for a reply, sneakily glancing at him as he tapped away at his phone.

From Unknown: How interesting. If I tell you mine, you have to tell me yours...

He was a funny one, I'd give him that. I replied, promising him I would tell him my name as soon as I knew his.

From Unknown: My name is Phil. Usually it's only my parents who call me Phillip, so please refrain from calling me that unless you're thoroughly annoyed. And it makes me sound old.

Phil...I mused. I'd heard that name before, I was sure of it. And not in the friendly acquaintance way, nor in that it was a common name. I knew it like I had spoken before, many times. It bounced around in my brain; I couldn't recall when I had spoken it, but I was sure I had.

I changed the contact in my phone so it read Phil.

To Phil: Well Phil. A deal's a deal. The name's Daniel. Dan to my parent, friends and those that know me well.

The train stopped and I glanced up to see which stop it was.

I bounded up, grabbing my bag and nearly dropping my phone. I rushed to the door, glancing back to look for Phil. I couldn't see him, but if i kept looking I would miss my stop completely.

The door opened with a loud whooshing sound. I pulled my jumper sleeves down to protect my arms from the cold wind. I was caught in the crowd of people, out of the train and onto the platform. I stood out of the wind and lifted up my phone to see Phil had messaged me back.

From Phil: I notice you have left me Dan.

To Phil: To be perfectly fair, I thought you had left me first. And Dan? Does this mean we're friends now?

From Phil: Sure. Friends...if that's what you want?

His message made me feel worried. Anxious. Sure, we'd only just met, so it didn't make any sense for me to feel like this. Did it really matter if he didn't want to be friends? Probably not. But try telling that to my brain, because it wasn't sure wasn't listening to me.

To Phil: Is that what you want?

He didn't reply, and I felt worse. Maybe he really didn't want to be friends. I side-stepped past people as I made my way out of the Underground; filtering through the constantly moving crowd. My phone beeped, and I almost jumped out of my skin. I had stopped hoping for Phil to reply, but that sound renewed the lost hope.

From Phil: Friends would be great, sure. I do have an obligation to tell you though, that I can't deny I might, might want more.

I laughed; quite loudly if the strange looks the people closest to me gave were any indication. I ignored them and sat down on the nearest bench. I read the message over, and over, and over again. I was probably blushing, but I didn't care. I couldn't work out if he was flirting or not. I decided to try and flirt myself.

To Phil: You're a poet and you didn't know it.

From Phil: But I did know it. ;)

Was he flirting? It certainly seemed like he was...but I wasn't an expert on the craft. I couldn't exactly ask him...could I?

To Phil: Sir, are you flirting with me?

From Phil: I might be. Are you flirting with me?

I decided to play along with his games. And if that meant flirting, so be it.

To Phil: Maybe I am. Guess you'll never know...unless you saw me in person and asked...

Flirting was a game I couldn't play.

From Phil: Are you doing anything later?

But Phil could.

To Phil: Bit eager, aren't we?

From Phil: What can I say? I'm a fervent fool, who really wants to see you again.

I grinned down at my phone. I probably looked like an absolute idiot; but there was a really cute boy flirting with me.

To Phil: Hyde Park. 3:00pm

From Phil: Now who's eager? I'll be there.

Realizing there wouldn't be any reason for Phil and I to talk anymore; at least until we saw each other, I put my phone in my pocket and grabbed my bag; swinging it onto my shoulder. I decided food was first on my agenda, so I headed off to find some.

Three hours later, I had successfully completed all my errands, and stuffed myself with so much food I didn't think I would need to eat anything else for a week.

Unfortunately, I had completely lost track of time; as was evident when I looked at my phone, the screen blinking 3:15pm.

"Shit." I swore under my breath.

I ran to the park, thanking what lucky stars I had left that I was not too far away. I ran there, my legs burning because, let's face it; when did I ever exercise?

I spotted Phil sitting on a park bench and I ran faster. Something I didn't think was even possible.

"Oh my god...Phil! I am...so sorry. I...completely lost...track of time."

Phil looked up as I ran over. He stood up, and I stopped; doubling over and breathing hard.

"Dan...Dan are you okay?" Phil asked, concern lacing his voice. He gently placed a hand on my shoulder, and I concentrated on pushing air back into my lungs.

"I was...late...and I didn't...want to...keep you waiting...any longer."

"Crap. Dan, here. Sit down." He led me to the bench and I sat down, smiling gratefully.

"Thank you. I am really sorry. This is such a crappy date, isn't it?"

"It's fine Dan, honestly. And you're not the worst date. You did turn up eventually."

"I won't be late next time, I promise." My breathing was back to a regular pace; but apparently the oxygen hadn't met my brain yet. I clasped a hand over my mouth, but Phil just laughed.

"Next time?" Phil asked, amused.

"Assuming I don't ruin everything now." I mumbled.

"Hey, don't stress about it. Are you okay?"

My hands were resting on my knees, and Phil put his hand over mine. I felt the tingle where his hand touched mine again. This time however, it was stronger; I couldn't ignore it, even if I wanted to.

"I'm actually breathing now, so that's a start. Thanks for your help, I really appreciate it."

"Are you sure that you're okay?"

"I'm sure. Come on; let's not waste any more time. I'm going to make this date better. Starting now." I jumped off the bench. I didn't quite understand what I was feeling; if it was because of Phil or just my mind playing tricks on me, but I was not going to waste anymore precious daylight.

"Come on, Phil. Adventure awaits!" I reached my hand out for him, pulling him up from the bench.

The strange sensation was still there, but it wasn't as strong. It was more of a faded, pulsing beat. Waiting patiently for me to recognise it, letting me know it was still there.

When I looked over at Phil, I saw something hidden in his eyes, an emotion flash across his face. Surprise, shock, joy; it was all gone as soon as I had seen it. I almost wondered if I had imagined it.

"Where are we going?" Phil laughed, as I dragged him through the park.

"There's some where I want to show you."

It was a big park, obviously; so there were a lot of places for children to play, friends to catch up and pets to roam. There was one particular place I wanted to show Phil. A special place I had kept to myself for many years.

A tall oak tree, with emerald leaves, and thick trunk. It stood towering over anyone who walked underneath it. It wasn't special in the usual sense, no one had died-at least that I knew of- it was just a plain old tree. But the tree had become an escape for me; a place I knew I could always go if I ever needed to escape.

"Dan...it's beautiful." Phil said, gazing up in wonder. I recognised his expression; I remember wearing the same one when I first saw the tree.

"We're not quite there yet." I said, finding the familiar knot on the trunk. Having found my foothold, I climbed up; each step taking me higher up.

"Are you going to come up, or are you just going to stand there looking pretty?" I called down to Phil.

"Are you sure it's safe?"

"I've been climbing up here since I was eight. You'll be fine."

Reluctantly, Phil started to climb up, slowly and cautiously; as if he expected to fall down at any second. Once he was close enough, I reached my hand out to pull him up onto the branch I was sitting on. We weren't too far from the ground; if we fell off we wouldn't break our necks, maybe a few limbs but we would live.

"I guess it's not that high." Phil admitted.

"Told you."

Phil stuck his tongue out. "Why did you want to bring me here, anyway? Are you planning on murdering me? Pushing me off this tree?"

"You caught me. That was my plan all along. He fell officer, honestly. I didn't push him at all."

Phil laughed, and I found myself laughing as well. It was so easy to talk to Phil; it was as if we had known each other our whole lives, rather than a few hours. I was comfortable, at ease around him.

"In all seriousness, I don't really know why I took you here. It's just always been somewhere I've felt safe, a place I could escape to."

Phil nodded. "I understand. It's special. I could tell that from the moment I climbed up here. You look very content up here. And it really is a beautiful place."

"Not as beautiful as you." I whispered.

I hadn't meant to say that. Those words were never supposed to leave my mouth. It was true, though. Phil was beautiful, and sitting under the canopy of leaves only illuminated his face. His eyes shone brightly, his lips looked so plump and pink and just so kissable...

"You think I'm beautiful?" Phil asked. I nodded, looking down sheepishly.

Phil reached out, lifting my chin up until I was forced to look into his eyes. He had me locked in his gaze, not that I wanted to look away.

"I really want to kiss you right now." Phil's voice was soft, low. It swam around me, into my ears; mentally pulling me towards him.

"Then why don't you?"

That seemed to be the only encouragement Phil needed.

He used the fingers underneath my chin to pull me close, and slowly pressed his lips against mine.

As soon as our lips touched, it was like an explosion inside my brain. All my senses heightened. The way Phil's lips felt against mine, the way he smelt; like strawberries and popcorn. The way he tasted, just so much like Phil. Which didn't make sense. I'd only just met him, how did I know any of this?

Then, my mind was flooded with visions. Images so clear, so real...

I realised, dazedly, that they were real. They were memories.

I saw Phil and I, in strange clothes, standing at a bar; whiskey glasses in our hands. There were girls in short, tasselled dresses, fancy feather headdresses embedded in luscious locks; I soon realised they were flappers. We were in the 20's, the era of fancy ties and tailored vests.

The image changed. We were in a house. I was sat at a piano, slim fingers dancing across the black and white keys. Phil was standing off to the side, a content smile on his face.

The pictures...memories, kept changing; yet it was always Phil and I. Phil and I dancing, Phil and I running, Phil and I kissing. Always Phil and I. It was almost like a tale, an unfolding of events. I watched as we got older; our hair turned gray, then white; we began to look tired and weary. It had been in colour the whole time, like watching a movie. Then the scene changed. I was lying on a bed, drawn and sickly. Phil was clinging to my hand, gripping it tight. The colour drained away, to black and white, faint streaks of grey. Phil began to sob, clinging to my hand and sobbing onto my chest.

Then, all the images disappeared. I was back on the tree branch, Phil sitting across from me, eyes wide in shock. My lips tingled, my skin burned, but I remembered.

"Did you see it too? Or was it just me?" Phil asked. Staring at him, I could see everything. The crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the small speckles of white hidden in his blue eyes; his long dark eyelashes.

"The...images? Of you, and me?"

Phil nodded.

"I can also remember." I said, drawing the words out slowly, still trying to understand what it all meant.

"Our past life." Phil said. "We knew each other in a past life, didn't we?"

"That's the only way I can explain it." I agreed.

"It's like my brain's been unlocked. Like there are all these memories I didn't know I had." Phil continued. "Like there's a missing piece that's been found, a hole that's just been filled."

I saw the cogs ticking over in his brain, the slow comprehension hidden beneath the overlaying confusion.

"When we first met, today; you looked so familiar. And when you wrote your number on my hand, it burned. Not harshly, but it still burned." I said. I knew I was rambling, but it was all so shocking, so hard to take in.

"I felt it too. A connection." Phil smiled, amusedly. "I think we're soulmates."

I leant forward to kiss him again, to make sure it was real. He kissed me back, slowly but it all felt so familiar. My eyes fluttered shut, and I could feel his hands on my face. His touch didn't burn, or tingle or buzz. It just felt right. Like we were made to do this, supposed to do this. Like I had finally found the place I truly belonged.

"We're unquestionably soul mates." I whispered.

I've wanted to write a soul mate-type thing for a while now; it's one of my favourite types of fics. It took me a relatively long time to work out how I wanted to write it, and how I would tie it all together. So, I really hope it worked. *fingers crossed*

Love you Natalie! Xo