When Siyeon turns fourteen she stares at her arm all day, at the greeting she had wrote, expecting someone else's writing to appear in response as it has for so many of her friends. She waits all day, but nothing appears, and so she does the logical thing and she starts worrying. Obviously she either didn't have a soulmate or they were younger than her, neither of the two options are particularly appealing to her to be honest.

She is very much used to being the youngest person in her friendship group, used to being doted on. So the idea of her soulmate being younger than her is rather frightening. She doesn’t know how to behave as the older one in the relationship, or how to take care of anyone younger than her.

But that doesn't really matter because the idea of her not having a soulmate at all is a lot scarier.

That's why, over a year later, when she first sees her soulmates writing she is overjoyed. The universe didn't forget her after all. She didn't expect the writing to be in english though and so she panics.

Trying as hard as she can to recall any of the english she learnt in school she manages to put together a basic sentence, reading ‘hello i am Siyeon i am korean’. The hangul she reads as a response is a relief to her.

Initially she had not thought to question it and it is only later, when she comes to her senses and actually thinks that she wonders why and so she asks. Apparently her soulmate’s grandmother had taught her korean and that is something she will be eternally grateful for. She tries her best to learn english, she really does, but she just really kinda at it.

Siyeon smiles, looking down at the writing on her arm, at the proof of her soulmate's existence. They only knew very basic information about each other: their age ( one year younger than her), name (Kyla) and gender (female). Regardless of this she can't help but fall more in love with the girl every day that they continue to communicate.

‘Hey’, she writes one day, ‘if i had to rate you from one to ten you would be a nine because i’m the one you’re missing.’ She can almost feel the sigh in the small amount of time that elapses before a response appears. ‘You’re an idiot’ it reads, something Kyla seems to tell her rather often. ‘Yeah but i’m your idiot,’ she scribbles down, writing nearly overlapping due to the limited space on her arm, already so covered in scribbles .

At some point sending cheesy pick up lines h