Chapter Fourteen: Not-Feelings
"I still don't think this makes sense."
"It does," Scorpius argued, tapping the clipping haphazardly. "Look at the original quote: 'I felt as though I had to keep visiting her home, more strongly after I did the SoulMates test.'"
"Sure," Rose replied, wincing, "but he sounds more like a stalker, if you ask me."
Scorpius read over the quote again. "A stalker whose soulmate just happened to be his stalkee?"
"It's the way he says it." She took the clipping from him, fingers brushing as she did, wondering if she was just exhausted—it was just past midnight—or she really was reading this correctly. "Look, see? 'I waited until she would come home, every day, because I couldn't stand it if she locked me out.'"
"Okay, I hadn't read that bit yet," Scorpius admitted, rubbing his eyes.
"The SoulMates program," Rose said, tossing the clipping in the growing pile of relevant articles and sources. "Encouraging stalkers since twenty-fifteen."
Scorpius laughed. Slightly deliriously.
Still, they had made decent progress in supporting their points. They had support from Orion—their main source, of course—who had given them key quotes. They seemed to have enough old clippings that Scorpius had collected over the years, proving that there were people who had found their soulmates to be less-than-stellar matches.
One account Scorpius had highlighted was of a man who was—as he put—attacked by a SoulMates tattoo, back when the original spell tattooed itself non-consensually on both soulmates. A woman's name appeared, but the man was definitely gay. Not to mention, happily married.
Another was of a few people who, upon meeting their soulmate, discovered a different name on their soulmate's chest. It was quite rare, according to Orion, but happened enough times that Scorpius had three different articles, one even with photos.
What they were having difficulty proving was the evidence of the attraction spell.
Scorpius stuck his quill behind his ear as he shuffled through more papers. "This one mentions the fact that their soulmate lived in East London. After she did the spell, she constantly wanted to go across town for no reason, and found out why when she met her soulmate."
"It could work."
"Could be a coincidence."
"That's how the magic feels, though. I like it," she insisted. He handed it to her, and she paper-clipped it to a parchment labeled 'Attraction Spell'. It looked empty compared to its companion, 'Wrong Matches'.
Scorpius scratched his chin. "I think I want to start on the introduction."
"We haven't really figured out how to incorporate your parents' story yet. Maybe we need another section for 'Broken Marriages'?" Rose suggested.
"We certainly have examples of those."
"I can get those while you start writing?"
"I guess." To Rose's surprise, Scorpius Accio'd the notebook she'd gifted him, making her smile.
As he began scratching away at the pages, Rose busied herself in re-sorting the clippings into the 'Broken Marriages' section, trying to stay impartial, as Scorpius put it. But the stories were devastating. She had no idea how they had truly had their lives destroyed by SoulMates, only for the company to use their money and power to regulate the spell and slip away, scot-free.
After all, doing the SoulMates test was more than just a couple of Galleons. She felt a bit sick to her stomach, thinking of the way she'd idolized SoulMates so much.
Rose shifted beside Scorpius, resting her back at the end of his bed she could outstretch her aching leg across the floorboard, as well as pull out her own notebook to begin writing. There was a comfortable silence between them as they wrote together. Rose could see them lying in bed reading books on lazy Sundays, writing side-by-side on rainy afternoons.
She felt scared to hope for it, but she did anyway.
It was only later, when she put her quill down, that Scorpius looked at her again. "Is that for the interview?"
"No." Rose hesitated, as she always did before she showed him her work. "We could use this perspective in your article. If you want. I haven't seen anything like this in the clips." Her stomach clenched as he took it from her.
'No one really talks about the anxiety that SoulMates causes. While I believe that we all have a partner to share our lives with, the actual experience of having an unknown soulmate is devastating. I thought I had ruined my life because my soulmate hadn't registered for the SoulMates program. I had no idea how to meet them, and even if I dated in the meantime, the chance of truly committing myself to a relationship was unthinkable. I knew there was someone out there that was perfect for me. My soulmate could have been dead, and I would never know. SoulMates could lead to the happiness most people could only wish for, or the loneliest experience of life one could imagine—if you believe in it.'
There was a long silence after Scorpius read it—once, twice, and maybe another time. Rose wasn't sure. After some time, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back on his mattress.
"It's obviously unedited, very rough—"
"Did you really feel like this?" he asked quietly.
Her shoulders slumped, answering him.
He read her paragraph over again, tracing the letters of the word 'imagine' with the tip of his thumb. "Why did you do the test?"
"You know why."
"Because… you believe in soulmates?"
"No—well, yes," she corrected, "but I've always believed in soulmates, as a concept."
"You very much are a romantic at heart." His tone was teasing, but he was smiling at her fondly. Something eased in her chest. "But then… why wait?"
She took a moment to gather her thoughts; it had been on her mind, and she felt as though she was making sense of it as she spoke. "I used to have my entire life planned out. Emily and I would rule the Quidditch pitch. We'd become the first co-captains in the League. We would take our SoulMate tests together when our careers were set. Raise kids together."
"What, no double wedding?"
Rose snorted. "I mean, we were sixteen and had big, stupid dreams. But obviously, life never works out the way we plan, and The Accident forced me to lose sight of that future." She realized in that moment what the past year had felt like—a sort of mourning of what would never be. "Now I'm just figuring it out as I go."
"Like we all do." His tone was understanding.
"I suppose." Her cheeks grew warm. "Then I got to know you, and I've always had a thing for you. I guess I just wanted to be absolutely sure about this one part of my life."
Scorpius seemed a bit stunned by this. Maybe more than a little bit.
"Wait… you thought I was your soulmate?" he asked.
She wanted to sink into the floor. But at the same time, it felt good to say it. She'd been right, after all. "I was so sure."
"That's why you wanted to do the SoulMates test?"
"Yeah." She looked down at her knees. "I just wanted to know."
Scorpius was still for several moments.
"And then I let you think you were wrong." He shook his head and placed Rose's notebook back onto her lap. "I can't believe you figured it out, and…"
Rose held the tip of her quill to the page, poised. She didn't know what she was going to write.
Scorpius wasn't finished, though; he put his work down on the floor in front of them, among the section pile of newspaper clippings. She drew a breath, preparing for the worst. Because after reading all those stories, she knew being soulmates didn't mean you loved each other.
But instead, he slipped his fingers through her free hand, not seeming to mind it was a little sweaty. She looked at him, and though it was dark, she saw the remorse in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Rose," he said quietly. "I didn't realize. An apology isn't enough."
She curled his fingers around his.
His smile was sad. "I formed a plan, too. When I realized how I felt about you."
"What was it?"
He sighed, squeezing her hand decisively before letting it go. "I promised myself I would come clean if you asked me out first. Or kissed me—something."
"But… you kissed me first."
"It's been really difficult to stay away from you," he confessed. "I guess we've ended up in the same places because of the SoulMate spell. And I know it isn't all the Pull, but Merlin—remember when you caught me spying at the pitch? Or the morning we fell asleep on your couch? I was trying to wait until I knew how you felt, but I almost broke."
"I knew it—I knew you were goading me." Now she wished she had kissed him, soulmates be damned. Everything would've been different. Easier.
There were other ways than a spell to figure out who her soulmate was, she was learning.
"I told myself that if you made the first move, and you didn't know we were soulmates, that would be good enough," he explained. "I could accept that this was real. But then I fucked up."
Rose remembered back to their night together, not even for a moment considering it a fuck-up. "You were just jealous."
His jaw clenched. "Of the speed dating, yeah. I was. It was stupid."
And pretty hot, Rose kept to herself.
"You were trying to meet me, anyway," he said, looking thoroughly annoyed all over again, "and now this entire SoulMate thing is moot, like I figured all along."
She leaned her head back, her hair bun pushing uncomfortably against the mattress as she stared at the ceiling. "I know. This whole thing has been ridiculous."
"Yeah." Scorpius followed suit and closed his eyes. "Point is, I'm sorry for how I went about things, and I'm sorry I lied. You deserve better than that."
She leaned her cheek against the soft, worn cotton blanket so she could look at him, trying to smile. "Thank you."
But he didn't open his eyes. He was quiet for a long time, and Rose nearly thought he'd fallen asleep before he spoke again, so quiet she almost missed it. "You don't have to be with me, you know."
"Scorpius…"
"I mean it. I never want you to feel pressured to be with me."
"I haven't." The opposite, honestly.
"Who you're with… it should be a choice." He opened his eyes, but didn't turn to her, to meet her in the middle as she hoped. "Who you call your soulmate should be a choice."
"There are no soulmates. Not by the SoulMates program, anyway."
"You know what I mean." She wasn't sure he did, though, and her leg was aching from the tension she felt. She ran her hands gently down her shin, trying to piece together how to say what was jumbling around in her mind, building up inside of her. She didn't want to mess it up.
Rose spoke slowly. "You've known all along that we're soulmates. And you know what you feel is real."
"Right." He was suddenly very still. "And that's been a mindfuck, too."
Her heart cracked a little.
But after everything that happened, there was something in her gut that was telling her that he wasn't speaking the whole truth. SoulMates didn't create feelings, didn't make you care for each other. And he couldn't hide that he cared for her, even if he wanted to.
"You're right about one thing," Rose said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "It should be a choice. We should choose based on how we feel—not what some spell tells us to feel."
Because if SoulMates was just a trick of attraction magic and psychology, and if Rose wanted to accept that, she had to face the truth of it. Of everything.
Of the fact that without SoulMates, she wouldn't have known how he felt unless she asked. And she should have, a long time ago.
He finally turned to her. The struggle on his expression—years' worth—struck her in the chest. "You really mean that?"
"Yes," she confirmed softly. "This is what the article should come down to. This is what it's about."
Scorpius nodded, looking resigned. "I agree."
With that, they picked up their quills again, back to half-written thoughts and pages to be filled. Whatever this mess had become, it was not easy to wade through, organize or understand.
What was obvious, however, was that it was the most difficult—and perhaps, the most important—story they might ever write.
Rose vaguely felt arms around her, lifting her in the most wonderfully gravity-defying space she'd ever felt, the pillow she leaned against warm and muscular, smelled like—her eyes fluttered open—Scorpius.
And then he gently dropped her on his bed.
"You fell asleep," he whispered as she blinked sleepily. "It's four thirty-six in the morning."
"I can keep helping," she mumbled, but he pushed her back down onto the sheets. "Just dozed off."
"Drooled all over my shoulder, too." He chuckled at what she was sure was her horrified expression. "You can sleep here. I'll be on the couch outside."
"The lumpy couch currently covered in dusty boxes?" Rose caught his arm as he made to leave and tugged him back to her. "Stay with me."
"I can't."
"Scorpius," she urged quietly, feeling the heat coming back to her face. And her ears, neck and probably everywhere else, too. "I'm sorry."
"You don't have anything to be sorry for."
"I'm sorry I tried to leave the other night," she whispered. He was staring at her hand on his forearm, wouldn't meet her eyes, but she had to come out with it—finally, just be completely, absolutely open. "I shouldn't have treated you like a one-night stand. That wasn't what it was for me."
Bewilderment grew on his face. "Rose… it's okay. I was being unreasonable. I never said anything to suggest that it would be anything more than that. Not until much later."
"Not out loud, maybe."
Scorpius' cheeks coloured, visible even in the dark.
She held on tighter. "You don't get it, do you?"
"Just sleep. It's okay."
"Don't you remember what I said before I found out? Before I saw your SoulMate tattoo?" she asked. He didn't reply. "I said I wanted to be with you. That I would try, soulmates or not. I already chose you."
He slipped his arm out from her grip.
"Scorpius." She sat up, not knowing where all of this courage was suddenly bursting out of her, but wanting to use it before it ran out. "You really don't think any of this was real? Did you really never feel anything for me?"
"I do," he admitted, turning towards the window.
"Scorpius," she said again, reaching out to his sleeve and tugging on it. "I'm so gone for you. So fucking gone. I have been all year."
He didn't respond, and she wondered if he was aware he wasn't breathing.
She laid back down. Now her chest ached, too. "You really don't believe me, do you?"
"I—I don't know." He ran a hand through his already mussed up hair. "I'm sorry, Rose."
It was a while until she could sort through what she was feeling—what she was seeing. Almost as if she was seeing him for the first time, but maybe more like she had finally opened her eyes. And somehow, she fell for him a little more.
"Your problem isn't SoulMates," Rose realized.
He turned back sharply. "Isn't it?"
"It isn't even real, right? And you've suspected that for a while." She shook her head and smiled, but it felt sad. "Your problem isn't SoulMates. It's that you needed an entire plan so you could believe someone could love you."
There was a thickness in his voice. "Rose—"
"And I do." The words came from somewhere else, somewhere subconscious. "Love you, I mean."
It had clearly rendered him speechless. Defenseless. She couldn't believe she'd said it, so directly. But she didn't need him to say it back. She just so badly needed him to believe it.
After a long, painful moment, Scorpius lifted the blankets out from underneath her, jerking his head over. "You're on my side."
"You put me here," she countered, but shifted anyway.
He got in and turned out the remaining bedside lamp as she tucked into the blankets. They found themselves taking each other in, feelings (or not-feelings) in between them. She could see the inner struggle in his eyes—the whole damn match—and the way he craved to believe her. The way that part of him was starting to win.
Finally, he tugged her back to his side, and she went, pressing her cheek into his chest. Even though she was in his arms, she felt like it was her.
Holding him.