Your fingers softly danced along the single unmarked shoulder of his sleeping figure, endlessly tracing over the contours of your name dripping across his skin.
It's silly, truly, how often you find yourself enamored with the precise script looping into his pale, toned flesh.
You had grimaced the first time you'd seen it, your name penned down against his skin as if it had always been there,
simply waiting for your pale (E/C) eyes to find it somewhere between a dream and reality, and he had tried to hide it from you with a claim that it meant nothing.
You felt a prickle of hurt dance under your skin at the remark, but you let it be, doing your best to deflect as the name seared into your inner forearm burned with pain.
But of course, you would happen upon your soul bonded mate only to discover that he did not want you the same way you had been searching for him the entire morbid time.
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