She cried.

Sunyoung cried, and cried.

She wasn't sure how long it was, but it seemed to be ages, nearly forever.

      The girl was sitting in front of two tombstones, the dirt only freshly covered. White carnations sat above the soil, a representation of lives now gone. Little whimpers escaped her lips, whispers of longing as she sobbed.

"umma...appa..." could vaguely be heard in the silent, solemn graveyard. There was no one else around but her. Her relatives and friends had left hours ago after the funeral ended. She appreciated the way they respected her desire to be left alone, but that was exactly what she felt for the past few days. Alone. 

It wasn't their intention, though. It would never have been their intention to leave their daughter and son as orphans. It wasn't the other driver's intention either. He never had the intention to drink a little more than he should have, never had to intention to take the lives of two. It was only to a very twisted fate to decide, that it'd be Sunyoung's parents' car to collide with the drunk man's. And it was only through fate that the two innocent ones wouldn't live, and the murderer would.

He wasn't a murderer, it wasn't his intention. But Sunyoung didn't care. She had marked the man as a murderer, she'd never forget his face. She couldn't wait to see sweet justice be served when it was time for the trial. 

Sunyoung had her brother, yes. But he was much too young, only a mere child. Their aunt had taken him in, out of pity, Sunyoung would say. They knew she was still a student, and could no way make enough to support for both herself and her brother. She hated it, always have, and always will. Pity was a disgusting word. Pity fed off of other's misfortunes, fed off their sorrows. Things are done out of pity not because you have it tough, no. But because I have it better, I have it better than you, and because I feel oh so sorry for you, I'm going to show you how much better I have it by "caring" for you. They were a poor family, but her mother and father did whatever they could, worked all day and night to provide. The only thing Sunyoung ever knew growing up, was pity. The way people looked at her and her brother. The way her friends happened to give her an 'extra' cookie their mothers had packed, the way her classmates' parents looked at her with soft eyes, and mumbled "poor child", the way her teachers always gave her an extra crayon during activities. She wasn't bitter, no. But she didn't need their pity. She was fine, her brother, her mom, her dad. Their little faimly, they were fine. They had each other, and that was all they needed. 

Yoongi glanced at his wrist, his other hand reached towards it. A slender finger traced the pattern. It was a heart with a rose stabbed through it. Behind it, was a crescent shaped moon. He wasn't the only one that possessed this picture on his wrist, the rest of his posse did as well. All of them. Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook. All seven  of them.

This little pattern was what their kind called the 'mark'. Only soulmates had it. Soulmates that the gods chose, they were destined to be together. The way werewolves had mates, vampires had soulmates. But don't be mistaken, that didn't mean the seven of them were each other's soulmates. They were yet to find her. When you meet your soulmate, you'll know. It wasn't something that could be missed. Marks were a