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For 10 years her parents had carefully helped her prepare a gift for her soulmate, February 14th permanently etched into her brain as her one line to the soul that perfectly matched hers. Choosing one gift for them was a difficult task, their foreign presence while comforting, was a mystery to her. She never knew if they liked her choice if they cherished their tokens as she did hers. Did they save every gift as her parents did hers, determined as they were to preserve everyone she had received, the cherished mementos reminding them of their struggle to find one another. Was he as determined to meet her as she was?
This year was different. This year she was determined to give him something completely her own without any help. His gifts to her had always been unique, each drawing displaying the world around him and his growing prowess as an artist, and carefully signed K.W. in the corner of each one. While most waited until late teens to give any personal information in the hopes of finding their soulmate, the simple initials were enough to ground her, to remind her that he was real and made just for her.
She had been working on her gift for days, searching for the best possible daisies for the crown she was making. It wasn’t anything like the expensive diamonds some people bought for their soulmate, but it was important to her. The circlet had taken her all day, but now it was finally ready with 15 minutes to spare before it would be exchanged.
~~~~~~~~~
Her parents insisted on being there of course. For eleven years they had watched their daughter as her eyes filled with joy, the fact that she had someone out there as they did one another was a comfort to the protective pair.
As her crown faded from existence, she was greeted with a garden scene, purple hydrangeas, violets, marigolds, baby’s breath, and Amaranthus flooding a path leading to what appeared to be a palace made of glass. The scene took her breath away, its beauty reminding her of Ardhalis. His gift was exquisite as always. Wherever he was, she longed for him to like her gifts.
~~~~~~~~~
There would be no parents to watch her this year. No best friend to show her drawings to. No one to help her pick a gift for the one person she had always believed would be there. Now she didn’t even know if they were still alive. So many had been killed in the tragedy. She didn’t know if she could take it if she lost him as well.
She watched as her gift disappeared.
Nothing came back.
No drawing.
No initials.
Just a void.
Somewhere inside her chest, she felt something break.
~~~~~~~~~
She wrapped her gift this year. The yellow paper might have brought her joy once, but now very little did that. She was no longer the same bright-eyed girl she once was. Their absence reminded her of that every day.
Still, she clung onto hope, her stubbornness determined to remind her that her gift had gone somewhere. Whoever they were couldn’t be dead then, they simply must have forgotten following the chaotic aftermath of the tragedy. Her heart longed for it to be true, for her to receive another gift this year, but her jaded mind insisted that it was merely false hope. She should give up now before she hurts herself even more.
Her gift disappears.
None arrive.
~~~~~~~~~
It’s been three years since the incident.
Her gift leaves as it always has. Nothing appears.
She tries to not let the rejection sting.
~~~~~~~~~
This year she has no gift. If her soulmate doesn’t want to meet her, then so be it. She’s seen enough of the world to know that life is cruel, that innocence can never last.
She spends the day focusing on her school work, determination ripe in her veins like the venomous guilt that threats to subdue her. She may have been too young to be a cop, but she could do all she could to prepare for her future, her uncle helping extensively with her little project.
She does not realize when the time passes.
Instead, she finds a single purple hyacinth on her desk.
~~~~~~~~~
It was fitting she supposed. For seven years now she had received a purple hyacinth, its apologetic form doing little more than reminding her of the terror plaguing her city, pushing her further towards her goal of vengeance. Seven years without sending a gift and whoever they were was still asking for forgiveness. She could practically taste their sorrow on her lips, now a distinctly familiar taste from her ex-partner.
She should have known that teaming up with a deadly assassin such as him would only lead to them tearing each other apart. She should have turned him in the minute she had the chance. She should have never agreed to become Lune. No matter how close they got, no matter if he saved her life, no matter if some part of her still longed for their vigilante nights, he was nothing but a monster. He could never be what she needed.
And now he was here. Lurking like a predator, hidden in the shadows cast by the midday he now walked in. His meek appearance and disguise might have fooled the rest of her precinct, but she knew the devil hiding under that cloak.
She allowed him to lead her back to his apartment, content to hear his excuses in the war now opened between them. As similar as their goals were, she would not hesitate to end his life herself should he even consider hurting her friends. She watched him like a hawk targeting its prey, her golden eyes glowing in the dim light illuminating the room. She stalked behind him yet said nothing as he pulled a dark key from his pocket, opening the locked door she had once questioned when things were simpler. When she was naive.
The door opened to a singular room, no other entrances or exits besides the doorway she currently resided in. Papers and boxes were scattered through the office, no doubt related to his work as well as his investigation.
He was talking again, his voice fading to white noise as she noticed it hanging on the wall, preserved and dried with age.
Memories flashed through her mind.
A broken crown in the middle of the street.
Soft hands helping her.
A circlet of daisies fading out of existence.
Kieran had stopped speaking now, not that it registered in her mind. Her whole being felt like it was drowning, shocked by the possible implications holding her down. For seven years she saw the single flower she received as some sick joke - a way to torment and shock fear into her by its new sinister implications. She never thought she would be connected to him. He was a criminal.
But was he her soulmate?
Without looking back, she ran into the street, lost in the continuous motion until her sides burned and her lungs ached.
Today was February 14th yet again. The nervousness buzzing through her stomach was foreign after so many years of apathy. She still had 5 hours left, but she already had her gift. Whether she wanted to be right or wrong she did not know, but she needed answers. She needed them like she needed breath in her lungs.
Tucked safely by her heart, waiting to reach her soulmate’s hands, was a letter simply displaying Lauren Sinclair.