John hated his soul mark.
Most people found their soulmates as children, some as early as eight or nine years old. By the time they started secondary school, most people had paired up. John was the exception. At fifteen years old, he quickly realized that he was the only unmatched person in his class. Not only that, but he was also was the only single person in the entire school.
He hated everything about his mark. He hated the way it looked, like a crossed out checkbox. He hated how prominent it was, taking up just a little under half his left cheek. He hated how he was always lonely. He hated being the sad, single friend. He especially hated how people looked at him like he was a kicked puppy half the time.
He had already stopped checking new acquaintances for a match. There was no point. Everyone at school had that same irritating symbol instead. When you met your soulmate, your mark changed to a heart. A symbol of true love, he thought bitterly.
His bitterness turned to anger and then to hatred. He became snappy and emotionally reclused. Even his parent gave up on telling him that he would find someone.
He truly believed that he would be alone forever until he met the new guy.
Form time was boring. There was nothing to do. People mostly left him alone now, which he was fine with. He glanced up from his desk to see someone he had never seen before.
"Alright everyone," announced the teacher. "This is Sherlock Holmes. His family just moved here a few days ago. I trust you'll all make him feel welcome,"
The boy standing next to her was sort of cute. He was excessively tall and lanky, with messy, long hair. The baggy sweater that he was wearing was much too big for him and reached far below his wrists and waist, and he was wearing a pair of comfy looking blue jeans. John stopped his thoughts. He was probably taken anyway. No point getting attached.
"Let's find a seat for you, Sherlock," said the teacher, glancing around the room. John rolled his eyes. There were no empty places in the classroom.
"Why don't you sit next to John?" she said, pointing out the seat, surprising John. He'd completely forgotten that there was an empty spot next to him. No-one ever sat there.
Sherlock came over and sat down silently, pushing his bag under the table. John pulled his hoodie over his head and slouched back in his chair. The boy shifted, pulling off his sweater over his head. "Christ it's hot in here," he muttered, stuffing it in his backpack.
Underneath, he was wearing a short-sleeved shirt. Sherlock laid his hand on the desk, drumming his fingers. His hands were as thin as the rest of him. Then John noticed the mark on his wrist. It looked like a checkbox with a cross drawn through it. Like his, John realized with shock.
"Holy shit!" he exclaimed, grabbing Sherlock's wrist and shaking of his hood, revealing his face. "We match!"
He watched as it clicked in the boy's face. Sherlock stood up, his chair clattering to the ground. "Oh my God!" he beamed, looking at his wrist in awe as it changed its shape into a heart. The same would be happening to John's mark too.
"Hey soulmate," Sherlock smiled cockily, taking John's hand.
It was only then that the two realized everyone was staring at them. "I understand that you two are having a moment and I'm happy for you," said their teacher "but maybe all save this for breaktime. Okay?"
Sherlock turned red, picked up his chair, and sat back down, embarrassed. John was flustered but excited to have finally met his soulmate.