Soul Mates
"Do you believe in soul mates?"
"What kind of faggot-assed question is that?"
Ian couldn't help but laugh at the irony of Mickey's statement. They were lying on a sandy beach, at night, on a blanket, watching the night sky for shooting stars. It couldn't get any gayer that that.
"Can you just answer the question?"
"No."
"No you don't believe in soul mates or no you can't answer the question."
"Can you just shut the fuck up already? You're breaking my concentration."
Ian turned his head to the side. He studied Mickey's face, from the scruff that had grown on his jaw to the way his pale skin looked almost clear in the moonlight, to the thousands of little stars that reflected in the glossiness of his eyes.
Ian knew that he was right, even if Mickey wouldn't answer the question. It might have taken a while to get to this point, but he just knew that it was true. He slid his hand into Mickey's so that their fingers were intertwined.
