Fated | Zico and Mino

WhiteTigeress

People think they understand what it means to be soulmates. You meet, and you’re just so perfect for each other that you can’t help but fall in love. Looking at us, that’s what you’d think, anyway. When I met him, I was enthralled: broad shoulders, tan skin, wide smile, expressive brows… What was there to not love? And as we spoke, the sizzling want that seemed to burn itself into my skin only heightened my desire to possess the beautiful man before me even more. It was a dangerous choice; I knew he was my soulmate.

In the beginning, things were beautiful. We were consumed by each other, and every night would end with me clinging to his shoulders, breathing out his name. During the day, he was attentive and thoughtful – even being certain my favorite pastry and coffee were waiting for me each morning. What more could I have wanted? But, you see, it was not enough. He was my soulmate.

I am not certain how it began, but I am certain it was my fault. I was a bit more, shall we say, rough around the edges. Seeing him in pain pleased me, especially when he asked me to stop. When I broke his finger, I remember the way he had cried; he did not speak to me for three days. But, he came back. He always did. After all, we were soulmates.

For a year, we fought through the haze of desire and pain and want and love and hatred. On our anniversary, he convinced me to take him out to dinner. That was a mistake. While we were sitting enjoying dinner, a strange man – tall, slim, dark eyes, deep frown, droopy brows – stopped at our table. “Mino,” he said, his dark eyes lighting up. “How are you?”

My traitor rose to his feet with a smile and placed a familiar hand on the stranger’s shoulder. “I’m doing great. Just out to dinner.” He smiled widely at me, teeth bright against the setting of his skin. “Zico and I are celebrating our anniversary.”

The stranger’s brows rose, and he looked at me. There was something in his gaze that made me want to scowl, but I just managed to fight out a smile. “Do you work with my Mino?”

My dear soulmate nodded. “Taehyun and I are in the same department. He helped me with the presentation last month.”

My eyes narrowed. “I see.” The pair spoke for another couple of moments before Taehyun excused himself to go back to his table. I signaled for the check and crammed bills in the fold the moment it arrived. Surging to my feet, I snagged Mino by the wrist and drug him out of restaurant – the poor creature stumbling along behind me. But I didn’t care. I could do whatever I wanted to him; he was my soulmate.

In the alleyway, I slammed him into the wall. “You filthy little ,” I growled, curling my hand around his throat. “How dare you? You’ve been cheating on me this entire time, haven’t you?” My grip tightened, and he began to writhe in my grasp.

You see, the funny thing about soulmates is that they are not what you have been told. We were not two people perfectly matched to one another – fated to be perfectly in love. No, a soulmate is something far more dangerous: two souls that exist in opposition to each other. A relationship with your soulmate can be the most passionate you ever have, but underneath the passion lies the festering urge to control, to tame, to destroy.

And I guess my poor creature was always too soft to live up to the darker aspects of our doomed relationship.

His features began to turn pale, and each movement lacked more power than the last. A feral smile curled my lips; I would finally be free of my obsession with him. He would be as cold as the grave, and I would be able to move on at last. I would finish –

“No!”

Turning my head, I gazed up the barrel of a gun and into a pair of burning dark eyes. Dark eyes… deep frown… droopy brows… Rage.

I was free.