Fifteen|simple and sweet

                                    

                                          
A smiley face, and all George could do was stare. 
                          
For years, he was convinced he was the only person in the world with his marking. That he could explore every country, meet every individual on Earth, including Antarctica, and he still wouldn't find another individual with a simplistic smile permanently marked on their wrist. 
                          
He always second-guessed every decision he made, pondering whether it'd bring him one step closer to meeting his soulmate or ten steps back. Yet, without even trying, they were brought together. The chances were so slim that George was convinced it was fate. That the reason he agreed to take Clay driving was to meet the man in front of him. 
                          
And the idea saddened him at the rate of the thunderstorm outside tenfold. 
                          
"We're not soulmates." Pulling his sleeves over his hands, he pulled his feet up and sat criss-cross next to his soulmate. "I don't have one. A mark, I mean."
                          
"Ah, okay." Punz drew his hand away, though his eyes clung to George like magnetics, gazing at him up and down. It excited his nerves, but not in the way it did with Clay and more in the way of bubbling wrongness that made him want to do nothing but run. "Who was that then?"
                          
"My friend." He frowned at the door, waiting for Clay to come back as he always did. "He wants to run away from home, but I don't want him to."
                          
"How old are you guys? Is he legal age to leave the house?"
                          
"He's sixteen. Hardly old enough to do anything."
                          
"Oh, how old are you?" He leaned closer, and George glanced over his shoulder to the front desk where a petite woman sat on her phone, not appearing to have realized the argument that just broke out right in front of her. 
                          
"I just turned eighteen."
                          
"Ah, I turn eighteen in January. You got a few months on me. Anyway, how is his life so terrible that he feels the need to run away?"
                          
"He's not in love with his soulmate."
                          
"Oh." The words had an indecipherable effect as Punz immediately glanced away and gave George back his personal space. "I'd run away too if that were the case."
                          
"Why? What's so wrong about that?"
                          
"Nothing, really. It's not so much how the person in question would feel, but the people around them." 
                          
"That so?" His head grew light. Was this how love felt? If so, he wasn't sure if he wanted it. It didn't feel like the high everyone described it as. It was sickening, as if George was shoplifting and worried of getting caught. Except, in this case, there was nothing he wanted to steal. 
                          
"Yeah, not to mention the other person. The only way I could see that going well would be if both parties didn't like each other. But what are the chances of that happening? The chances of one side not falling in love is rare in and of itself."
                          
His chest weighed heavy. Something was wrong. He had just met his soulmate, and all he wanted was to go after Clay. To talk to him and convince him to come home. Wilbur was exhilarating to meet Techno. His voice sang the way a nightingale did. Cheerful and content. The tempo of his words were as quick and excited as a hummingbird, buzzing along as if the rest of the world was off his shoulders and he was allowed to fly. 
                          
George, however, felt like a flightless bird. Watching as the people around him fell in love and met their soulmates. He knew now that he had a soulmate, and he now had free reign to fall in love and fly with the rest of the happy couples. Except he didn't know how. Not only was he never taught, but he found himself having no desire to try.