Viktor groaned, resting his head against the window. Four years he'd actively tried to talk to his soulmate. Messages on his skin; his name, his address, his hobbies. Each one meeting the same fate, the grey smudge across his hand. It had been there less than an hour and it was gone. The clouds outside were colourless white. Apparently they were flying across the Atlantic Ocean.
The first time Viktor realised he had a soulmate, he was seven. His parents were soulmates. There were kids in school who had found their soulmates. It all seemed like such a big deal. The first time he noticed, there were random lines of blacks and reds and blues and greens and browns and yellows. Viktor hadn't used felt tips since the day before. They were real. His soulmate was real. He tried to tall to to them, but all he got back were squiggles, nonsense. As he got older, the words turned to clearer symbols that he couldn't understand. It turned into thin black ink, precise, on his hands rest and arms. At least he could tell it wasn't Russian or English. Chinese? Japanese? Thai? It could have been anything. Sometimes a number in English. A time? Maybe a date? He promised himself he'd look into it. The idea of soulmates made him feel warm. Then he left school at fifteen.
Snapped up straight into modelling. Which meant being so busy, but these days his jobs were sometimes dwindling. He was getting older. He was still good looking. There were still lots of girls, and admittedly guys, swooning. He knew it. Not to let it get to his head. Sure Viktor had been with other people before. Girlfriends brothers, one-night stands, flings. He was young, it had gotten him into a lit of trouble with his manager. He was not meant to be irresponsible, he had a public image but that wasn't the point. Was it really cheating on your soulmate if you would never meet them again and they wouldn't acknowledge you? He was torn between giving up hope, and what he wanted. Someone made just for him.
Nobody understood soulmates, they were just a thing, like air. They'd been around longer than anyone could remember. Viktor sighed and looked back at his hand.
"Your not still moping around about that are you?" Yuri moans, resting his face on his fist. "Get the fuck over it."
"Watch your language." Viktor reprimands and smiles, "I am not moping, also there is more to life than being a moody teenager."
Once they arrived at Delta County airport, Viktor would be staying in Michigan and Yuri would be travelling to new York. Despite his attitude, having met Yuri six months ago, he failed to see him as anything but a little kitten in need of protecting.