A/N: Thanks to IAmAJohnlockAddict, Qoheleth, Beatlemaniac45, and ChuYumeAkirameru for reviewing Chapter 1. Also, thank you to everyone who followed and favorited my story.
"Mum!" I frantically cry, and then she's right in front of me, a concerned glint in her soft eyes.
"What is it, Johnny?!" she shouts, a hint of anxiety trapped in her voice.
"Wh-where is my cuff? For my wrist? Where...is it?" I stutter, trying desperately to calm my shaky breaths.
"Harry took it a while back, said she'd return it in a bit. Why: what is it, dear?" she responds, gripping my shoulders with her slender fingers. I can feel her rings digging into my skin uncomfortably, and I grip her hands to tug them off.
I don't respond for a moment, too caught up in my anger and the commotion and all the mixed emotions I'm feeling right now. Yet my mother seems to understand, anyway, and she stares at me knowingly.
"John?" she says firmly, now taking my face in her palms, ignoring my slight flinch away. "Did you get your marking?" she asks, and I can't help but think it's a dumb question: she already knows that's what's happened. I suppose she's asking just for clarification.
I nod my head subconsciously, my mouth curling into a grimace. Mum notices my distress, I guess, because she strokes the side of my face comfortingly.
"What's wrong, John? Let me see it, please?" she pleads, and even though I don't want to, not even in the slightest, I stretch out my arm, allowing her the chance to roll my sleeve up.
Her fingers brush tentatively at the flesh of my wrist, and I nod for her to continue, seeing the clear expression of hesitancy on her face. Suddenly, she forces my right sleeve up, and she stares at it for a moment. Then, I see confusion blur with the look of amazement.
"W-why are you trying t-to cover this, honey? You should be pr-roud to have a marking...," Mum drawls, and she glances up to my face with her pleading eyes, and I can't help but wince. She won't understand now, never will, but I'll try telling her anyway.
"I don't w-want to be made fun of, M-mum!" I shout, and she looks taken aback. "They've always made fun of me! They call me gay, and they said I'll end up like Harry, with a soulmate of the same sex, and now they're right! I'm-I'm gay, just like they said: like they say...Please, don't make me show it...don't let them know that I'm like her...," I whimper, and she suddenly looks so tired: so undone.
"Oh, honey...," she sighs apologetically, and suddenly her arms are wound around me, filling me with warmth despite the tears I can feel clinging to my eyelashes. I'm not sure how long we embrace, but it feels like her arms are gone far too quickly.
"Oh, John, don't listen to what anyone else says...having a soulmate is a wonderful thing, no matter what the person's name or gender. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you're bad because of your soulmate...Who cares what anyone else thinks? You'll always be my little boy, and me and your father will always love you," Mum reassures, and I can do nothing else but smile at her words, even if I don't believe any of them.
"Please, Mum...," I smile through the tears, and suddenly, she gives up. I see her face drain of any fight at the whining tone of my voice, and, I admit, I don't like the way it sounds much either.
"John...you shouldn't be ashamed. I'm sure William is lovely..."
I flinch, and she clasps her hand over her mouth, realizing what she's said.
"Oh, honey...," she sighs with a pain in her eyes that makes me want to just...hug her. "I just...I wish you'd accept that you can't change your fate. You're bound to this...person, and there's nothing you can do but make the best of your fate."
She rushes me, wrapping her arms around my torso and shoving her head in the crook of my neck. I freeze momentarily, contemplating what she's just said, but I don't know how to continue. It was so easy to just deny that I was gay, but I can't deny it anymore, not with...William's...name as proof.
Mum pulls away, and despite her trying to swipe them away discretely, I see the tears beading in the corners of her eyes. I reach my hand out, drag my thumb over her eyes, and I see a small smile tug at her lips.
"You know what?" I announce, pulling away from her. "Forget about the cuff. I'll just...I won't cover it up...," I admit, and my mum looks at me softly.
"That's good, John...," she sighs in what sounds like content. "Just...don't let their ridicule get to you. Not everyone is so cruel."
I give her a smile; not a pained one, or a crooked one, but a genuine one. It's small, and my muscles twitch at the stretch of my lips when I feel so drained of energy, but it's real, and I actually feel reassured.
"Oh, and Mum?" I call behind her retreating form. She turns her head around and quirks an eyebrow at me before walking closer.
"Yes, Johnny; what is it?"
"Um, well, I just wanted to ask...," I mumble as I scratch the back of my head,"what color is it?"
She smiles gently at me, and I wish I could see the color of her eyes, her hair, her skin, her clothes: see all the colors she's described to me.
"Well, I'd say...aubergine...it's a deep, rich, beautiful purple," she explains, and I can only imagine what the sight will look like.
"Thanks, Mum," I smile.
She smiles back.
"Well, I, um, should get to, ah, school," I murmur, and she nods her head with a melancholy look in her eyes as I continue,"I won't wear the cuff, but, um, can I wear long sleeves?"
"Of course, dear," she comfirms, and her hands are back on my face as she kisses my temple. "All I ask is that you don't let them get to you. Be proud of who you are because you are a beautiful person. Your soulmate is a beautiful person, too. Always remember that, John."
Her small hands move away, the warmth of her palms dispersing as she walks away and waves goodbye. I wave, as well, then I rush down the hall, into my bedroom, and retrieve my back pack from where it lies on my bed. Grabbing my mobile, I stuff it in my pocket and jog to the front door.
As I twist the door knob, I look down to my wrist, see William scratched into my arm, and I roll up my sleeve, for all to see.
Because I should be proud. Because William, where ever he is, whoever he is, is beautiful, and I should be proud of him.
Because he's my soulmate.
"What's the writing say?!"
"Come on; let's see it!"
"It's none of your business!" I grate out, my face contorting in anger, although I feel a seed of fear blooming in my gut. When I had walked out of my house this morning, my marking had been displayed proudly, but I tug my sleeve down now as Carver and Derek try and see it.
"Oh, defensive much, Watson? What've you got to hide?" Carver retorts snidely, an ugly grin on his smug face.
"Yeah, Johnny: why're you hiding it?" Derek adds, and now my books are splayed on the concrete below. He stomps on my binder and wrenches my book bag off my back as Carver tries shoving me to the ground. I resist him, gripping his arms in mine and holding him back.
"John Faggot Watson! Heh: has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" he laughs, and I want to punch him so badly, but I don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was able to make me angry enough to hit him. Then, Derek puts me in a headlock from behind and hauls me away from Carver.
I feel Carver's fist pounding into my stomach and the ache that accompanies it, and my breath hitches as I try desperately to wriggle out of Derek's grasp, but he holds me firmly. I feel his breath against my neck, and I can't help but shiver.
"How's it feel, Johnny, to know you're a fag?" I hear Derek breath into my ear, and suddenly, I want to cry.
"Get off of me! You have no right!" I growl loudly, but neither of them listen as Carver moves his hand away from my stomach and targets my head. I see his fist inches away from my eyes, and then I feel it collide with my face, and I whimper in pain. I try to bite my whimper back because I don't want him to know that he's hurting me, but I just can't.
I can hear both of them laughing in my ear, then I feel my sleeve being tugged up forcefully.
"Ah, I'm hurt, Johnny: you lied to us! You said you weren't gay, all this time, but we knew better! We knew you were lying when you said you were straight! Well, you can't lie now with William on your wrist, can you?" Carver yells, inching closer and closer to my face.
"Look at how Faggot Watson is wincing, Derek!"
Then, I glance down to Carver's wrist, and I see an opportunity.
"You're...one to talk, Carver...having a soulmate named Justin," I whisper, and I know he hears me. His face freezes, and Derek's arms have gone limp at my comment, so I take my chance and pull away as quickly as I can. I wince as I try running away, leaving my bag and school supplies sprawled on the sidewalk. The last thing I see as I limp away is Derek walking away from Carver, who is desperately trying to make excuses.
And then, I see Carver start to cry.
At first, when I realized my soulmate was male, I was terrified. I've already been ridiculed and bullied most of my school life for saying I liked boys more than girls. But I wasn't saying it like that: I meant that boys were more relatable, that they made better friends. But, from then on, they've always called me gay. Now, William, he's going to make my life worse than it already is. His name alone has already gotten me beaten up by Derek and Carver, so I can only imagine what'll happen when I finally meet him.
I should probably hate 'William' for making my life worse, but I can't hate him when I don't even know him yet. And even though Carver and Derek act like it's bad for your soulmate to be of the same sex, I know it isn't, and I've never thought it is. I'm just scared, is all: scared of being with a guy in that way.
Instead of hating William, I find myself fascinated with him, albeit I've never even seen him. I wonder what I'll first see that's this 'aubergine' color, and what he'll look like, what he'll sound like, how he'll act, if he'll like me. I'm sort of infautuated with him, I suppose.
I just endlessly wonder when I'll finally get to meet him.
A/N: Any feedback is much appreciated.