"Hansol."

"Yeah..."

"What flower do you think your partner would have?"

"Uhm, I don't know." He ran his hand through his hair, stubborn strays running along his lashes, "The counselor said, as I quote, you need an anchor. You'd think that she'd be more straightforward, dealing with hormonal little shts and all. I guess not."

Seungkwan adjusts his head, in such that it lays sideways and complete flat against his bed. "Well, can't you read between the lines or something? Aren't you supposed to be like deep and poetic yourself? Mr. 'Pull up on your wacks with a mac fully loaded ah'"

"Hey! did you hack into my Soundcloud again? I swear Boo Seungkwan..." the said boy just tuned out whatever it is Hansol said, he had no real bite anyways, all bark. And with that the subject was dropped, but not Seungkwan's interest that is.

What he failed to mention to his friend was that his mark appeared overnight, stark against his pale wrist. Chrysanthemums, it read, bright, too bright, on his phone's browser. Symbolizes fidelity, optimism, joy and long life, it read. Okay, the Jeju boy thought, it's not at all bad. It could be worse. The buds on his wrist in particular are bunched up against each other, yellow and white intermingling amongst each other, a bouquet of sorts. As he searched, he came across something rather odd, A white chrysanthemum symbolizes truth and loyal love while a yellow chrysanthemum symbolizes slighted love.

Oh. So that's how it is. Is the 18-year old boy doomed to endless one-sided love? Is that how it is? Seungkwan tried his best to bury that thought under the promise of loyal and optimism. He should learn from his destined partner, they are there for a reason. Why is this soulmate business so damned cryptic? Why couldn't he settle for someone who's already right in front of him?

He woke up the next day with a tuft of hair nudging his nostrils, it vaguely smells of vanilla and something else he couldn't quite place. The boy kept his eyes glued shut, enjoying the warmth by his side and light streaming from his windows, casting warm glows to the back of his lids. Cuddling to his right, his arms tighten around Hansol's chest with his legs thrown over his waist. Ah, what a nice way to start the day.

"Ya, Boo Seungkwan what do you think you're doing. Get off me you.. you, slimy octopus. Go swim off to Jeju or something." And there it is. Why is it that his friend always finds the need to shatter his pleasant fantasies. Hansol is shaking his arms and legs off of himself and curling himself tighter to his side, into a fetus position. Cracking one eye open, he could see other boy clutching onto his wrist, staring at it with an intensity of say, "Hey, did you finally get your flower or something."

Reaching out to his right, Seungkwan placed his arms up and around the boy's chest, pulling him back against his own. "Chwe Hansol, don't freak out on me like this." The heat radiating on his front is only a tad bit suffocating, but Seungkwan sure as hell isn't going to complain when his best friend is having a mental breakdown right of front him. "Come on tell your boo, what'd you get anyway?"

"I.. Uhm- It's- uh, I'm not sure? It was just, I woke up okay? And like suddenly my wrist felt like it was being burned." The long-haired boy snuggled further into the heat behind him, despite being the taller of the two. "It's still kind of sore now, but not so much. I just- got really scared okay." His voice trailed off, slowly turning into a mumble, voiced against the arm lodged in front of him.

"That makes," yawn,  "the both of us. I got mine" yawn, "yesterday, actually. Forgot to tell you and all-" yawn, and then suddenly pain came in form of Hansol elbowing him in the gut. "Ow! Rude, what the hell." The boy in question turned within Seungkwan's hold, coming face to face with his companion. "How could you not tell me! Your bestest best friend this life and the next, oh my god! I'm telling Seungcheol! And I'm making Lee Chan my new wingman!" Hansol whisper-shouted.

"Out of all people, Lee Chan? You're replacing me with a Michael Jackson impersonator? Ya, you could do better than him, and I'm definitely better than him." The older of the two sighed with him reply, duh, I'm the best quality, he thought. "What are you gonna do about the flower? Wanna... Go look it up?" To be honest, Seungkwan is nervous himself, he can feel it in the way his plams start to sweat. He's certain about the flowers etched on his skin, that it could possibly mean something for the both of them.

The Jeju-native's not saying that he has non-platonic feelings for Hansol Vernon Chwe, but he's also not stating the opposite.

So here they are, seeking the advice of the all knowing, Mr. Google. Surprise, surprise, the cluster of purple and white flowers blooming on Hansol's wrist are Lilacs. Of First Love and Youthful Innocence, whatever that meant. In Seungkwan's eyes, it's pretty damned clear what that meant, maybe he's just in denial. First stage of grief, clear. There's always the possibility, that maybe, perhaps, his friend shares the same thoughts as he does. What are his chances?

"Why does it have to be so cryptic all the time. How does this even relate to this person being my fckin anchor?" Hansol-ah, why are you so blind? "Why couldn't it be you instead, Seungkwan-ah? Wouldn't that be easier?" Sat right beside, what could possibly be his soulmate, or soil-mates if you want to call them that, Boo Seungkwan at 18 years of age felt, stunted.

"Uhm, oh- What if it is- I am you know?" He's never been so unsure yet certain, ever, beside maybe deciding whether or not he should call his mom at 2am just because he heard noises from coming from the window. "My flower, a bunch of them actually, are Chrysanthemums. It's supposed to mean joy and long life, but also loyal and slighted love." He kept his stare on the computer screen glaring very brightly. "So... Maybe, I've taken you for granted...?" I've messed up, I've messed this up, I am a me-

"Well yeah, I guess that makes sense. I mean- I kinda, have sorta, feelings for you, too?" At that, he glanced sideways to observe Hansol's expression. His face was downcast, eyes never leaving the floor and his hands fiddles with stray thread on his sleeping shirt. It's his nervous habit, Seungkwan observed, he either does that or run his hands through his curls way too often. "If that what you're implying, cause I might be an aspiring underground rapper and all but as I said before I'm not good at rea-" The words trailed off as he presses his lips against the younger's. They were chapped and dry, from all those times Hansol taunted with his pink tongue peaking slightly from his pinker lips. It was a nice enough first kiss, totally worth it.