1/2: Haru

Warnings: none

Length: 8.1k words

Note: This story is divided into two parts with two points of view: Haru’s and Baekhyun’s.

“Have we met before?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I’m sure I’ve seen you from somewhere, though.”

A small grin curls onto the man’s lips. “Oh, really?” he seems to challenge. “Where from?”

Haru tilts her head to the side as if it’ll help her with remembering the man’s face. She doesn’t know where she found the sudden urge to confront a stranger like this, but perhaps the air in French museums causes people to commit to things that they’ve never done. After all, Haru doesn’t know anything about man other than the fact that he’s familiar.

The man’s black hair is straight but falls slightly messily over some parts of his forehead, giving way to fair, unblemished skin. Little moles dot his face in remarkable places—by his nose bridge, cheek, and lips. And his eyes are beautiful: oval-ish, slightly downturned, and very dark in hue but very bright in feeling. Unlike the other attendees in the museum, he doesn’t seem to resemble the average tourist. He wears a tan suit, and its color is a breath of light that would catch anyone’s eye. In fact, the reason why Haru ever thought to approach him was because of that color. She has never seen anyone wear a beige suit—at least not in person—so handsomely.

“I know you from somewhere,” Haru insists, now feeling slightly embarrassed. She smiles despite the warm sensation on her cheeks and ears. “Have you visited this museum before?” she asks. “In the past week?”

Haru thinks that the man will shake his head, but to her surprise, he nods in affirmation.

“I’ve visited nearly every day in the last week,” the man replies.

“Really?” Haru’s ears perk up at this. She was thankful that the man spoke English at the very least, but now his answer gives her assurance. “That’s where I know you from,” Haru beams. “I’ve been coming here a lot too.” She nods, amazed. “You’ve got wonderful taste in art.”

“As do you.” The man nods his head to the painting in front of them and turns to face it. “L’ange déchu,” he says. “The Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel. I adore this piece.”

Haru draws her eyes away from the man’s temple mole and to the painting. Truthfully, today is the first time in the past week that she has really paid any attention to this particular work. Happenstance is the only reason why she’s here.   

“Only a few people stop to consider how Lucifer felt when God cast him down from heaven,” the man continues in a murmur. “Milton had it right, though.”

“Milton?”

The man lifts a hand to point at the golden lettering written over the painting. Since the words are in French without an English translation, Haru has given it no prior attention. However, the man seems to understand the foreign language, and he reads it out loud with a gentle accent.

“Le passé l’afflige, l’avenir le désespère,” he says. “The past afflicts him, the future despairs him.”

The man pauses, and Haru holds her breath as she stares at the French words with curiosity.

“He moves his sparkling eyes everywhere: one reads in his fatal gaze sadness, confusion, pride, and hatred.”

Haru stares at the fallen angel’s angry gaze with a newfound understanding.

“His keen eyesight,” the man continues, “as the angels possess, suddenly embraces this cursed, dreadful, frightful place.”  Another brief pause. “John Milton. Le paradis perdu. Paradise Lost.”

“I didn’t know that’s what it said,” Haru says of the French inscription. She had been ignoring it out of lack of understanding, and now she regrets having done so. “That’s…beautiful.”

Indeed, the painting has blossomed right before Haru’s eyes. At first, it had seemed ordinary. Another masterclass of anatomical detail. But through the words of the stranger standing by her side, Haru now sees it in a much different light; the painting serves as an empathetic dissection of the fallen angel, Lucifer. The artist painted him to have a beautiful figure—pale, unblemished, and muscular. The muscles in his legs are taut as he lies on a rugged set of rocks, his wings folded behind him, his hair billowing in the wind. His eyes are red-rimmed, and their “fatal gaze” contains all sorts of emotions—mostly of anger—but the glistening tear trickling towards his nose draws his viewers to sympathy. This angel was angry and hateful, but he was also hurt.

“Very dark, isn’t it?” the man remarks. “That even the devil himself could feel such agony.”

Haru agrees wordlessly, still in awe of the painting. She’s so mesmerized by it that she almost fails to notice that the man has started talking again. She turns to him, and he greets her with a small smile.

“Baekhyun,” he says softly with an outstretched hand. “And you are?”

“Haru,” she breathes.

Haru merely shakes Baekhyun’s calloused hand, but only a touch is needed. They’ve all learned this in school. Schools worldwide teach this sentiment before their children even know how to read. It’s a part of everyone’s lives, after all—that one day, they’ll each meet their soulmates, and words will be so superfluous that only a touch is needed.

Only a single touch.

This is the first of Edinger’s Laws of Soulmates. A brushing of bare shoulders in a hot concert, a well-timed punch to the jaw, or a simple handshake. That’s all needed: one touch no matter how brief. What always follows is the knowing. It’s bolt of electricity in which the bolt is the feeling, and the conductor is the heart: the knowing. Words are so redundant.

That electric sensation in Haru’s heart that tells her all that she needs to know, and Baekhyun must feel it too because the blank gaze in his eyes softens in realization.

“You’re my soulmate,” Haru states in both amazement and cynicism. She used to believe in the idea of destiny—of soulmates—like most people, but as she grew older, she grew more and more defiant of adhering to normal beliefs and practices. She didn’t actually think that this day would happen.

“You say that with doubt,” Baekhyun notes. He’s the first to let go of their connected hands, and the sweet, blissful feeling of familiarity disappears almost instantly from between their fingers. “I’m not what you were expecting?”

“No, it’s not that,” Haru insists.

Most people aren’t cynics; most people embrace their soulmates at the first meeting. Although Haru is in the minority of the defiant counter-societal-norms crowd, she doesn’t want to cruelly reject someone that she hardly knows.

“I’m just…” Haru stumbles over her words. “The concept of fate,” she says politely, having rehearsed this statement multiples times in the past, “of having a predestined path, doesn’t appeal to me.” Baekhyun raises his brows in surprise, but Haru continues to explain. “I’d rather choose,” she goes on, “than have something chosen for me.”

The loaded statement causes Baekhyun to take a pause in consideration. Haru expects him to be offended, but he doesn’t appear to be the slightest bit moved. If anything, he seems intrigued by her words.

“So,” Baekhyun asks, “you’d prefer if the two of us were to ignore each other?”

“No,” Haru murmurs, shaking her head. “That’s not— I-I-I’m not sure how— I’m just… I’m sorry.”

Haru thought it would be much easier to explain herself and move in separate ways from her soulmate, but clearly, the teachings and warnings from grade school uphold their truths. The second of Edinger’s Laws of Soulmates is that soulmates will always find a way to gravitate towards each other—emotionally and physically. Thus, she suddenly feels conflicted despite her once-strong beliefs.

“Don’t be,” Baekhyun assures Haru, surprising her. “I understand.”

“You do?”

“Of course.” Baekhyun holds out his hand, and Haru looks at the amicable gesture with unsurety. “You said you wanted to choose,” he says with a small smile. “So what if you chose me?” He arches a brow as if it were an invitation. “Give me a night. Give me tonight.”

Haru doesn’t know what to make of that offer. It seems more like a challenge than anything. Doubt fills her mind that he’ll change how she feels within one night, but there’s something about him—and it isn’t just the fact that he’s her apparent soulmate. Is it his confidence? Perhaps. Any man wearing a tan suit is a little out of his mind but only in the best way, it seems, because no one has smiled so surely at Haru like that. She’d like to decline, but she’s not busy anyways, and what kind of person would she be if she refused to grant him such a small wish?

“One night,” Haru agrees, and she takes Baekhyun’s outstretched hand.

When their palms touch, the excitement swells in Haru almost immediately.

This is Edinger’s Third Law of Soulmates; soulmates will always fulfill unfulfilled desires. Whether it’s the desire of being understood, discovering new things, or simply having a companion, soulmates will always be the answer to their counterpart’s deepest wishes. It’s the principle that cements two people together, and it’s the principle that has Haru doubting herself. She has always wanted to embark on an adventure in a foreign city with no knowledge of how it’ll end. Maybe this is it. Maybe Baekhyun doesn’t need a night. Maybe he has already won her over.

But if there’s anything Haru will do, it’s to fight against fate.

- - - - -

Baekhyun must have spent more time in Montpellier, France than Haru because he wastes no time in taking her to a food establishment: the Halles du Lez.

The Halls is actually just one building filled with bars, food stalls, and restaurants. Parts of the ground floor are roofless, enabling for an open sky experience paired with the various scents of cooked goods. It must be a well-visited spot for tourists too because Haru’s ears are filled with the sounds of numerous accents and languages. There’s too much to look at, which makes it all the more jarring when Baekhyun pulls her through the crowd to the section upstairs.

If it’s possible, the rooftop is even prettier. The outdoor terraces are decorated with plants, making the atmosphere feel cool and fresh. String lights are hung up on the arbor, casting illumination in a starry way. Like the ground floor, Haru sees, hears, and smells several things at once. Despite the different languages spoken, everyone on the roof seems to bond over food and shared laughter.

Baekhyun finds the hostess of one restaurant, speaks to her in a quick, cool tone, and the next thing Haru knows, the two of them are being ushered to an open table under warm lights and creeping vines. The hostess hands them each a menu, but before Haru can even begin to read it, Baekhyun gives her a suggestion.

“Order the huîtres,” he says casually as if the dishes were as common as water. “Languedoc is known for their oysters.”

With great curiosity, Haru peers at the mysterious man sitting across from her.

“Where are you from?” she asks inquisitively. “You know how to speak French like a local, but your English is perfect. You also have a Korean name like me, so you might be a tourist from Korea, but…”

Haru glances at Baekhyun’s attire. Most tourists don’t wear tan suits to outdoor eateries in Montpellier—especially not if the weather is on the warmer side.

“Are you here on some business trip?” Haru queries out loud. However, it’s clear that he’s not on a business trip since Montpellier isn’t filled with corporations and white-collar companies. “I don’t get it,” she continues. “Where are you from?”

“You can answer that,” Baekhyun replies coolly. “Where do you think I’m from?”

It’s an answer for Edinger’s Fourth Law of Soulmates; soulmates will always be an ideal partner as observed through similar interests, proximate geographical locations, complementary personality types, and other means. Although broad, the Fourth Law essentially states perfection between two people. Studies have been done on this in the past few centuries, and soulmates are never two people who will clash at first sight. They will never have to overcome boundaries, laws, or other people to be together. By following this law, Haru knows that it means that Baekhyun must reside close to her.

“You live in New York City,” Haru states, and Baekhyun gives her an affirmative smile. “Manhattan?”

“Correct.”

A waiter takes their orders and promises to come back with water.

“Now, let me ask you a question, dear soulmate,” Baekhyun starts. The title he has given Haru—dear soulmate—causes her to smile at its delicate delivery. “What was at Musée Fabre that interested you so much that you visited nearly every day?”

“Well, I’m an artist,” Haru replies. “As crazy as it sounds to be an artist in the 21st century, that’s what I am. I make and sell art for a living, and when I’m not painting, I like to look at other art.”

“Do you have a favorite style of art?”

“Oh, I can’t choose a favorite,” Haru says with a sheepish smile. “I like all kinds of art styles, but when I paint, I like neoclassicism.” Baekhyun appears to lean closer to hear her speak when their surroundings grow loud. “Call me crazy,” Haru continues, “but I always felt like my soul was a thousand years old. I swear, sometimes when I close my eyes, and my hands are holding a paintbrush, I always feel like I’m a painter from the 18th century.”

“You consider yourself to be an old soul then?”

“Yeah, what about you?” Haru asks. She nudges her chin towards Baekhyun. “What were you doing in the museum?”

“I work as an art restorer and historian at the Metropolitan Museum of Art,” Baekhyun replies tersely. “I’m sure you can solve this puzzle in your head.”

“You’re kidding.” Haru’s jaw drops with disbelief. “You don’t actually work there.”

“I do,” Baekhyun swears. He speaks too coolly for it to be a lie—and if it were a lie, then he’s good at making it sound convincing. “I specialize in European art, but my superiors have instructed me to narrate the virtual tour on East Asian artifacts because I was the only one with the capability to pronounce all of the foreign names correctly,” he explains. “And if you would like, I could tell you all about ancient Korean scrolls and pottery.”

“You’re kidding.”

“What reason would I have to lie to my soulmate?” Baekhyun asks with a teasing frown. “No,” he goes on, “I swear on my mother’s head. I can inform you about the bunwons—the kilns—that the Joseon Dynasty created in the 1460s to produce baekja, otherwise known as ‘white wares’ or imperially white porcelain.”

Haru’s jaw falls in surprise. She doesn’t know enough about Korean pottery techniques to confirm the veracity of Baekhyun’s statement, but the tone of his delivery is so confident that it’s sufficient to make her believe in him.

“That’s very impressive,” Haru admits. “I didn’t know I was talking to an art expert.”

“And I had no idea that I was speaking to an artist.” Baekhyun arches a brow and smiles. “What do you like to paint?”

“People, mostly. Sometimes I go to parks just to watch them.”

“Museums are excellent for that too.”

“I know. I go to the Met all the time just for that.” Haru feels herself grinning and bites her lip to suppress it. Edinger’s Laws of Soulmates aren’t scientific laws without reason or proof, after all. Baekhyun just seems to know her; their interests align so perfectly.

“You’ve got a very pretty smile,” Baekhyun quips. “I hate to see it go.”

This statement, of course, brings Haru to laugh. She looks up at the grinning man before her and shakes her head in playful defiance.

“Don’t,” Haru reprimands him without threat. Compliments about appearance always make her flustered because she doesn’t know how to take them. “Don’t start with that ‘you’ve got a pretty smile’ line. I’ve heard that before, and…” Haru shakes her head once more. “Just don’t.”

“I’ll do my utmost to restrain myself,” Baekhyun promises, but his smile says otherwise.

- - - - -

Following their dinner, Haru wishes to go back to her hotel room as quickly as possible because of an early flight the next morning. This, of course, is deterred by Baekhyun upon finding out that the two of them have been staying at the same hotel all along.

Perhaps it’s Edinger’s Second Law of Soulmates, or maybe it’s the promise of a glass of a wine, but Baekhyun manages to persuade Haru to spend some more time with him.

“What were the chances?” Haru asks sarcastically. “That we stayed at the same hotel?”

“Maybe the gods are at work for us.”

Baekhyun opens the door to his room to reveal a large, elegant suite. When he turns on the light, Haru gets a clearer view of the with peach-colored curtains and golden fixtures. It comes complete with a little area for a kitchenette, a dining area, and a living room area. Though the inside of the room is cool from lack of use, it’s a warm sight to behold, with the air freshener plug-in emitting the sweet aroma of strawberries. Of course, Baekhyun fits right in when he slips out of his suit jacket and tosses it onto the bed. His white dress shirt matches the color of the bedsheets, and his shirt is equally as crisp on his body as the sheets are on the mattress.

“I didn’t know my soulmate was also easily swayed by the promise of fine wine,” Baekhyun remarks as he grabs a bottle from a small fridge. He then fetches a pair of wine glasses from a cupboard and hands one to Haru as she sits on the bed. “Maybe we really are meant for each other.”

“Depends on what wine you’re serving.”

“We are conversing in Languedoc,” Baekhyun says as he opens the wine bottle. “Over a third of France’s total wine production happens here. It would be very hard for me to go wrong with a selection.” He fills her glass with about a quarter of deliciously beautiful shade of rosé wine. “This is Grenache with a blend of Cinsaut.”

Haru eyes Baekhyun carefully in the moments before she takes a sip of the wine. She has fooled around with all sorts of men in the past—men who hadn’t found their soulmates yet or men whose soulmates had passed away—and in her experience, the men she found flings in weren’t into wines. They liked beer or hard liquors like ale or scotch. This is why she thinks that Baekhyun is once again lying about himself, but she takes a sip of the wine, and it becomes very evident that he really knows what he’s talking about.

To say that the wine is sweet is an understatement. Its aroma is filled with sweet scents of flowers and strawberries. Its forefront is incredibly light—perfect for any summer meal—but it washes down with a bit of an acidic finish that reminds Haru that this is still wine and must be handled with responsibility. Regardless, she finds herself wanting to drink more.

“You’re not going to get me drunk,” Haru tells Baekhyun as she stands up to place her glass of wine on the counter. “No matter how good this wine is, I’m not drinking the rest of it.”

“My intentions were never to get you drunk,” Baekhyun says as he joins Haru in standing. “I like to remember my first times.”

Haru feels herself blush at the slightest implication. She’d like to run away and hide herself from Baekhyun’s flirtatious statement, but she finds it hard to move in any other direction except towards him.

Curse Edinger