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Nunew learns about love before he learns about the red string.
He’s had a red string tied to his left pinky since before he can remember; he imagines it’s been with him since he was born. He doesn’t know what it means for a while, just knows that it’s there.
But his family teaches him about love—about skinship and verbal affirmations and unconditional support—long before they teach him about the red string.
So when Nunew learns about soulmates, he… doesn’t care much for them.
See, the problem with soulstrings in an already amatonormative society is that it becomes an obsession. You see it in stories, in the media, in ads, in music, on billboards, everywhere. And over time, some people lose themselves to the idea that they absolutely must find their soulmate.
The string leads somewhere, they think, so they follow it. Some people spend their whole lives following their string, sparing no expenses in their attempt to find their person. Some people gamble, steal, fight just to find someone they’re already destined to meet.
Entire industries had emerged to profit off these desperate souls—new transport systems, hotels for the influx in nomads, pseudoscientists who promised to find your soulmate. Most were scams though; no one could see your string except you and your soulmate, and science had yet to find any foolproof prediction for soulstring matches.
Soulmates weren’t perfect either—it seemed the string tied you to someone you were destined to meet, but it couldn’t promise a happy ending. Soulmates didn’t need to be romantic either, but you could never tell at first glance as soulstrings all looked the same—countless relationships had fallen apart because people had tried to force romance where it never should have been.
Soulmate, his parents do eventually tell him when they realise he has one. When he learns that he’s the younger between the two of them since he was born with his string, he hopes they didn’t have to wait too long—but he doesn’t rush to find them either.
See, his parents, his older brother, his friends, the good people he surrounds himself with—they all show him that love isn’t exclusive to soulmates. He doesn’t feel the need to abandon his life to find love when he’s never felt that he was lacking it to begin with. They show him that you could still love and be loved even without a red string to make that decision for you.
And so if he’s destined to meet this person eventually, he’ll do it in his own time. He doesn’t mind.
But it still shocks him when he’s nineteen, about to walk into his first true photoshoot with all generations of Domundi, and he sees his red string lead into the studio in front of him. He stops dead in his tracks, scuffing his sneakers on the sidewalk, and tugs on his dad’s sleeve.
“Pa,” Nunew swallows, peering down at his pinky, then back to where the string disappears into the front entrance. “I think my soulmate is in there.”
His dad loops an arm around him, tugging him close. Nunew is taller than him, so he can’t tuck himself into his dad’s side, but even still, he feels safe when his dad tells him, “I came here to support you today.”
His dad doesn’t often say much, but he doesn’t need to. Nunew hears the I’m here for you. You don’t have to be scared. I came along to support you. That doesn’t change no matter what we first thought would happen today.
Nunew smiles and nods, drawing in a fortifying breath.
The building is two storeys, with a white exterior and gravel pebbles scattered along the front. It’s late November—almost the start of winter—and the wind is slightly chilled against his face, ruffling his hair as it sweeps past.
As they make their way into the studio, up the flight of staircases they’re directed to, Nunew doesn’t know if he’s terrified or excited. Soulmates are not everything, but they’re something, and he can’t help feeling like his entire life is going to flip on its head at any given moment.
For a brief second, Nunew entertains the idea that maybe his soulmate isn’t a part of Domundi—maybe it's someone working in another room of the studio. But it can never be that easy, and so when Nunew sees that his soulstring leads into the room he’s supposed to go into, he’s unsurprised.
When Nunew steps into the room, he doesn’t dare follow the string with his eyes immediately. He greets everyone in the room first, takes a seat by the window with his dad next to him, and then, and only then, does he let himself look.
Nunew had always thought meeting his soulmate would have more fanfare—like a scene in a movie where your eyes meet in slow motion, with music reaching its climax in the background in one great sonorous cacophony, lights flaring around you as your heart lurches in your chest, rejoicing at finally meeting its other half.
But it’s not. There’s nothing different; the red string simply floats in the air as it always does. It’s surprisingly underwhelming.
Except it’s not, because his red string is connected to Zee’s right pinky finger, and that is all he needs to see for all the air to rush out of his lungs. Zee is already looking at him, the expression on his face neutral but curious, and it brings a heady flush to Nunew’s face. He reaches for his dad’s hand, squeezing so tight he’s sure it hurts, but his dad does nothing but lay his other hand on top.
“Breathe,” he reminds Nunew, grounding him.
Nunew draws in a sharp breath, and ducks his head down shyly. When he glances up again through his bangs, Zee’s attention is off him, instead responding to something that Aof was saying.
“Is it him?” His dad asks quietly, and Nunew distantly feels himself nodding as he starts to process that his idol is his soulmate. His dad hums out a quiet noise, patting the back of his hand. “Do you want to talk to him?”
“...not yet,” Nunew tells him after a pause. He’s collected himself a little, and he has to remind himself that he came to the studio for a reason. He’s surprised, definitely, but he’s perhaps disbelieving enough that he can push it to the side for now.
Nunew gets through meeting the rest of the new gen, as well as the photoshoot, because they are his first duties. He won’t throw away all the efforts of his manager and his family—and everything Nunew himself has worked for—just to meet his soulmate. He’s still the same person he was before he found out it was Zee.
But he can’t resist peeking over his shoulder on the way out, and manages to catch Zee watching him again. Nunew smiles, just a gentle upward lilt of his lips, even with his ears heating up, and Zee smiles back. That’s enough for him in that moment.
From there, they never talk about it. At first, it’s because Nunew doesn’t want to make much of a fuss over soulmates; he’s much more content to set his own pace and get to know Zee without trying to force anything.
With how soulmate-obsessed society had become, it’s refreshing to see that Zee seems to have the same approach. Neither of them are in a rush, and it shows; they have their awkward moments, and they don’t spend all their time together. A few conversations aren’t enough for them to start anything even remotely romantic, and Nunew likes that they can take their time with it.
They don’t use their red string as a surefire sign of compatibility and comfort—they build that themselves.
Eventually, when Cutie Pie blows up, they still don’t talk about it. They simply don’t have the time for it, and Nunew doesn’t particularly feel like they need to either. They are each other’s partners, and they know implicitly that they can rely on each other.
Zee does sit Nunew down when they decide to make the switch to officially dating, but even then they don’t talk about it—because it doesn’t matter. A red string tied to their pinkies that Nunew forgets about some days isn’t as important as working out boundaries, and time, and what they can and can’t do in public.
Something that Nunew does indulge himself, though, is linking their pinkies together.
The first time Nunew had done it, he’d been tentative—testing the waters. Zee, feeling Nunew’s pinky loop around his own, had looked down at their intertwined pinkies.
Between them, with the distance between their strings nearly nonexistent, it had condensed into one glossy red mass. Zee had looked back up at Nunew, smiled at him as he stepped closer so they were pressed together from shoulder to hand, and Nunew felt that was all they needed.
So they don’t talk about it.
Until, of course, they must.
It isn’t that Nunew means to eavesdrop. It’s common for him to seek out Zee, so when Nunew enters Aof’s house and does not find him in the living room or kitchen, he pads to the guest room that he knows Zee tends to gravitate towards.
The door is already cracked open, so Nunew doesn’t think anything of it as he approaches, but then he hears an insistent voice—Max, he thinks offhandedly—filter outside the room.
“—be your soulmate.”
“He can’t be.” Nunew hears Zee respond, and he pauses just outside the room, hand poised on the door.
“Why not?” Max asks, voice tense like he’s frustrated.
“He can’t be,” Zee repeats, adamant. “Nunew can’t be my soulmate.”
Nunew doesn’t even realise that he barges in—he’s in disbelief, acting on instinct. The door swings open, just barely avoiding slamming into the wall, but he doesn’t care. “Why not, Hia?”
Zee jolts, whipping his head around to stare at him, speechless, whilst Max heaves out a relieved breath.
“So I was right. Nunew,” Max strides towards the door, lightly patting him on the shoulder as he passes him, “talk some sense into him.”
The door clicks shut behind him, and Nunew waits until he can no longer hear Max’s footfalls. “Explain, Hia. Please.”
“Nunew…”
“Hia,” Nunew presses, “why can’t I be your soulmate?”
Zee’s entire face pinches, his eyebrows furrowing and mouth tightening at the corners. He looks confused and lost, but Nunew doesn’t let up because it makes no sense.
Nunew flexes his hand by his side, but doesn’t need to look down. He knows the string is there. It’s connected to Zee; it always has been. He knows it like he knows that he doesn’t like pineapple, that his parents love him, that his favourite colour is pink. It’s just a fact.
So when Zee stammers out, “But… you can’t be.”
Nunew… Nunew gets angry. It’s the kind of incandescent rage that feels both slow and fast at the same time—it overcomes him in one huge rush, but it boils beneath his skin like a fever—the heat builds and builds until he can feel it in his ears, his face, his neck. His bones are the kindling, his blood the fuel, and the flames feast like starved beasts.
Like a grease fire, it isn’t the kind of flame you can simply toss water onto. You must tread around it carefully, you cannot drown it in water lest you spread it—you must smother the oxygen from it before it burns down everything. But unlike a grease fire, Nunew already feels like he can’t get enough oxygen in his body—his entire body is set alight, fingers tingling and body trembling—and yet still, the fire blazes on.
“What the hell do you mean by that?” Nunew doesn’t even recognise his own voice; it’s deeper than ever, rough and dark in a way he’s never let it come out before. “Does our string mean nothing to you, Hia?”
Nunew steps forward, but Zee steps back, hands raising in front of him like he’s trying to placate him. The string on Zee’s pinky sways as he does so, and seeing that just serves to make Nunew even angrier.
“This string,” Nunew lifts his left hand, waving it furiously in front of him. He keeps moving forward, and Zee backtracks with every step he takes. “This red string that literally connects me to you. And I can’t be your soulmate?”
“Nhu, wait.” Zee’s back hits the wall, and the lamp on the bedside table next to him wobbles. Nunew stops just in front of him.
“Oh, I am waiting.” Nunew tries to make himself sound calm, but he can hear the unsteady shake in his voice. “I’m waiting for an explanation. Give me one good reason why we aren’t soulmates. I’m not asking, Hia. Answer me. Right now.”
“I—I…” Zee trails off, looking down at his right pinky. He looks right at the string, then whispers, “I didn’t think… it could be you.”
Nunew grits his teeth, clenches his fists so hard his blunt nails break the skin of his palm.
“You didn’t think it could be me? That’s all you have to say? So all this time, all the workshops and the filming and the public events and the lives. Was that all an act for you?”
Tears well up in his eyes, and Nunew hates it. He’s angry, but he’s hurt too, and he hates that he’s crying when he’s supposed to be furious. He hates that it looks like he’s breaking Zee’s heart because he doesn’t get the right to be sad about this when it’s all his fault, and Nunew has to look away because it still hurts his traitorous heart to see Zee upset even though he’s supposed to be angry at him.
“All the times you bought me gifts, and took me out on dates. All the times you said you loved me, and wanted to be with me for a long time… what was that to you, Hia?”
By the end of it, Nunew’s voice breaks off in a whisper. He looks down at his feet, covered in bear-print socks. He blinks and tears drip onto the wooden flooring, but he refuses to sniffle or wipe them away.
“Nhu, wait, I think you misunderstand.” Zee reaches out to grasp his wrist, but Nunew flinches back, jerking his hand away.
“Don’t you dare touch me.” Nunew might be vulnerable right now, but he refuses to take comfort in someone who he doesn’t even know if he can trust anymore. “How can I be misunderstanding this? Unless you’re fucking blind—”
“I can’t see it,” Zee interrupts, voice thick, and Nunew whips his head up, surprised.
Zee drops his hand back by his side, and his throat bobs in an audible swallow like he’s trying to keep it together, like he’s sad too—but Nunew doesn’t know if he can trust his judgement of Zee anymore.
Dubiously, Nunew asks, “what do you mean you can’t see it?”
“I don’t have the Sight, Nhu. I’ve never been able to see it. I thought… I didn’t know if I could even have a soulmate.”
“That…” Nunew feels the anger ebb—the flames flicker, but do not disappear. This kind of anger does not disappear at a snap of the fingers.
Nunew knows what’s happening in his body right now; knows the physiology behind it, rationally. It’s adrenaline and noradrenaline that raise his blood pressure, quicken his heartbeat, make him want to lash out and hide simultaneously—fight or flight.
They’re in his bloodstream right now, coursing through his system and tensing every muscle in his body. Hormones don’t clear out of your system that quickly, so Nunew closes his eyes and reminds himself to take a few deep breaths.
And then he thinks.
He’s heard about Sightless people before. Once, and only once.
It was an offhand remark from a teacher when he was younger—that some people just didn’t have the Sight. It was damn near unheard of, to the point that it sounded more of a myth than anything. To people who did know about them, it was believed that Sightlessness was divine punishment for sins you had committed in your past life.
Nunew didn’t believe that—no one could truly explain soulmates even now, even people who had spent their entire lives researching them. It sounded more like the kind of cautionary tale you’d tell to kids to warn them not to misbehave.
But as a child, Nunew had dismissed the idea of Sightless people really existing. It seemed so cruel to give someone a soulmate but never give them the chance to access them.
So it conflicts in his brain that not only do people without Sight exist, but Zee was one of them. Quite possibly the only person in the world currently—they were that rare. Supposedly. He doesn’t know for sure.
But Zee is the same person who always serves him food first, and opens water bottles beneath a table for him, and wipes his sweat from his face with his bare hands. In his anger and hurt, Nunew had forgotten all of that. He’s calmer now—not all the way quite yet—but he thinks he can trust that he knows Zee.
Zee has never shown himself to have anything in mind but Nunew’s best interests. And right now he looks like he’s expecting Nunew to hit him or something, but would still be willing to risk reaching out and comforting him if he needed it.
And it’s the look on Zee’s face—sadness and quiet grief and regret and fear—that shakes Nunew the most now that his mind is a bit clearer. Because even now, he has never felt unsafe in Zee’s presence—angry and hurt, yes. But never unsafe.
Nunew would never lay a hand on him, would never physically lash out or harm him in that way. But Zee doesn’t know that. Not right now when he’s hurt and confused. Nunew knows what it’s like—not knowing if you can trust someone when you’re in that kind of headspace.
So Nunew does the one thing that his parents, his brother, his friends, and Zee himself have taught him works: he communicates.
“We should talk.”
Zee nods tentatively, and Nunew steps next to him, sliding down with his back against the wall until he’s seated on the floor. Zee follows his lead, sitting down slowly, but leaves a gap between them that feels foreign to Nunew.
And Nunew may not be fully settled yet, but there’s enough clarity in him to understand that his anger had stemmed from hurt. The primal part of himself had reared up, lashing out to protect him because at the end of the day, people’s first instincts would always be wired to think of survival and self preservation. Eliminate the threat, it says, hurt it before it can hurt you.
Now, Nunew needs to consciously take the reins back into his own hands and say breathe, there is no danger here.
With both of them aching and confused, it only makes sense to seek comfort.
(I know you’re scared. Me too; we are one and the same. Come with me, to my safe place.)
He shuffles a little closer, pressing their legs together from thigh to knee, and Zee loses some of the tension in his shoulders. Nunew breathes, and does not smell smoke and ash.
“Hia doesn’t have the Sight?”
Zee’s lips part like he’s stunned, and he shakes his head. “You believe me?”
“Not yet,” Nunew admits, sighing as he leans his head back against the wall. “I always thought it was a myth. But I wasn’t letting you speak earlier. So I’m listening now.”
Zee hums out a quiet sound, clasping his hands in his lap. He licks his lips, then explains it to him in a level voice.
“When I was born, I couldn’t see a string. I thought it was just because my soulmate was younger, so I didn’t think too much about it. And as I got older, I thought I might have a soulchild. I was okay with that. And I know soulmates aren’t the be all, end all.”
He lifts his right hand, splaying it out in front of himself and squinting his eyes at it.
“But when I was twenty seven, I think I needed some hope. So I went to a doctor.” Zee pauses, then chuckles wryly. “Multiple doctors, actually. All of them told me I had a soulchild, I just had to wait. Except for one. She was blind, but I remember she looked right at me and said I might be the only person to not have a soulmate at all, or I just didn’t have the Sight.”
“So I confirmed it for you,” Nunew realises. “You only just found out that you don’t have the Sight.”
Zee nods, bringing his hand back into his lap. “At the time, I didn’t want to get my hopes up, so I assumed the worst.”
It was no wonder that Zee hadn’t been able to explain himself earlier—he had prepared himself so entirely for that one possibility that he’d been completely blindsided by the fact that he did have a soulmate.
“I’m sorry,” Zee tells him, and Nunew shakes his head.
“No, it’s not in your control. I—”
“Nhu was angry,” Zee murmurs, then adds, “I don’t know if you’re still angry.”
Nunew heaves out a quiet breath, passing his fingers over the crescent-shaped cuts embedded in his palm. They hadn’t bled much, but it stung slightly to run his fingers over them. “I’m not actually angry at you anymore, it’s just residual now. Hia doesn’t need to apologise, you shouldn’t have to apologise for something that isn’t your fault.”
Zee is silent for a bit, then turns to him and says, “I don’t need to apologise, but sometimes it’s nice to get one anyways. I’m sorry, Nhu. I’m sorry I upset you.”
Nunew feels the ache building behind his eyes again, the hiccuping breath that gets stuck at the back of his throat. He pitches sideways, curling into Zee’s side and burying his face into his shoulder. Zee tenses up, hands hovering in the air for a second before he hesitantly settles his hands around him.
“Hia…” Nunew clenches his hand on the front of Zee’s shirt.
“I’m sorry, Nhu.”
Nunew finally lets himself cry like he hadn’t before—the kind of crying where once you start, you can’t stop. The tears build within his eyes, leaking out in a continuous stream, running down the side of his face and onto Zee’s shirt. It’s not a pretty cry by any means—his face scrunches up and feels hot, and he can feel snot dripping from his nose.
“I thought you didn’t want me, Hia.”
Zee gently tightens his hold, pulling Nunew impossibly closer to his body. He rests his chin on top of Nunew’s head. “No, of course not. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. Hia loves Nhu.”
Zee rocks him from side to side, murmuring quiet apologies into Nunew’s hair. And Nunew had said he didn’t need to apologise, hadn’t wanted him to take the blame when he didn’t do anything wrong, but Zee’s right.
Sometimes, when you’re sad and hurting and overwhelmed, there’s nothing else that can be said—sometimes, there’s just nothing else that your brain can accept but I hurt you. I know. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.
Zee pries Nunew’s hand free from his shirt, spreading it open. He lightly traces his fingers over the cuts in Nunew’s palm, stopping when Nunew flinches at the sting. Zee mutters another apology into his hair, then brings his hand close to lay kisses over the wounds.
And then, finally, the last embers of Nunew’s anger sputter out. In the wake of that wildfire sits a circle of soot and coal. Ashes are scattered all around him, and he lays in it. He mourns the quiet, unfettered beauty it had once been—the undisturbed peace it had once been home to.
But he won’t let himself stay for too long; it does you no good to sit where smoke is in the air—it’ll rot you from the inside if you allow it to make a home in your lungs. There is still life to the garden around him; he will wipe away his tears and tend to it.
He’s read before that fire can be good sometimes—the weeds and their roots have been burnt away, and the ashes will replenish the soil. From the ground will sprout new, healthier flowers in colours and patterns he has never seen before, with soft swirling petals and broad-sweeping leaves. Nunew will cherish them, make them into a new safe place; it is no gravesite.
It is a garden, and his love will bloom beneath his fingertips.
He pulls back from Zee’s side, blinking as his eyes adjust to the light again. There’s a wet patch on Zee’s shirt that makes him smile sheepishly, but Zee doesn’t seem to mind, lightly cupping his chin with a hand. With his other hand, he grips the end of his long sleeve shirt, using it to wipe the snot from Nunew’s nose. It’s gross, and Nunew should probably stop him, but instead, he leans into the gentle ministrations.
When Zee finishes, nodding to himself, Nunew takes hold of his right hand, linking their pinkies together and pressing himself back into Zee’s personal space. With their closeness, he feels more than hears the sound Zee makes when it suddenly clicks.
“Is that why…?”
“Mm,” Nunew affirms, the two of them looking down at their linked pinkies. “I always thought you knew… the first time I did it, you looked down at our hands.”
Zee shakes his head slightly, trying not to jostle Nunew. “I was just surprised. You said you used to be scared of me, so I thought you were just shy holding hands.”
Nunew huffs out a breath. “I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m sorry, Hia.”
“No.” Zee reaches over with his free hand to pat him on the head. “Not having the Sight is rare. If I was in your position, I would’ve thought the same. It’s okay, Nhu.”
Nunew raises an unimpressed eyebrow, pitching his voice down to mimic him. “I don’t need to apologise, but sometimes it’s nice to get one anyways.”
Zee cracks a smile, and it’s then that Nunew realises it’s the first time he’s done so since Nunew had entered the room. And that just makes him want to apologise more, so he unlinks their pinkies and takes Zee’s entire hand between two of his own.
He makes sure Zee is looking at him when he says, “I’m sorry, Hia. I made assumptions, and I didn’t let you explain properly. I said so many hurtful things to you, and I insulted you too. I’m sorry.”
Zee’s eyes turn glassy, tears collecting along his waterline, and he bites his lip like he always does when he doesn’t want to cry. “I forgive you, Nhu.”
“I forgive Hia too. We’ll do better from now on.”
An unreadable look crosses Zee’s face, but this time, Nunew doesn’t let his insecurities get the better of him. He knows Zee, he’s sure of it now, and waits.
“Are you sure you want me though?”
Nunew releases a startled noise, “what?”
“I’m an outlier that almost no one acknowledges. I’m a statistical anomaly. I’m… I’m defective.”
“Hia, if you say that, I’m going to get angry again.” Nunew interjects, voice stern.
Zee raises his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I just meant...” His face looks stricken, like it’s only just truly sinking in for him. “I can’t even see it, Nhu. The string ties you to me, but I can’t and won’t force you to stay with me.”
For all that Zee had seemed calm earlier, keeping himself composed whilst Nunew cried into his shoulder, Nunew has to remember that Zee only just found out too. He’s had years to come to terms with the idea that he might not have a soulmate, only to be thrown into the reality that he did—he would just never be able to see the string.
It must be a strange kind of grief—learning that he had been wrong, being relieved of the knowledge that he wasn’t the only person in the world without a soulstring, and he indeed had a soulmate.
But also now having to accept that he would never truly be able to access it—accept that it was locked away from his eyes, and there was nothing he could do about it.
But Nunew had learnt about love long before he learnt about soulmates. (He wonders if he had remembered that earlier, the two of them never would have hurt each other.)
It’s too late to change the past though, so he simply tells Zee what he should have told himself back then.
“Does it even matter?” Nunew asks, and Zee jerks his head up to look at him, stunned. “You’re still the same Hia from before. You still forget where you put your phone all the time, and overwork yourself even when I tell you not to, and stab food with your chopsticks when you can’t pick it up properly.”
Zee laughs a little, and Nunew smiles. “And you’re still the Hia that loved me a week ago, a day ago, an hour ago, and now. The string doesn’t change that.”
If anything, it meant that all the love and care that Zee had shown Nunew had come from his own true feelings, unswayed by the red string. Nunew had always thought that Zee had been like him—had known that the fates had decided they were perfect for each other.
But he didn’t. That meant that every decision he had made—surprising him with flowers, taking him to his hometown, even noticing him the first time they met—had all been his own conscious choice. Nunew can’t help but laugh at how Zee somehow makes him feel more loved everyday, and how stupid he had been to doubt that for even a second.
Nunew runs his fingers along the line of hair on the back of Zee’s hand. “Hia, you’re not forcing me to stay with you—the string isn’t a shackle for me. Maybe you think I would be better off with someone who can see strings. But you’ve loved me this whole time even without the string telling you I was your soulmate, and that’s what matters more to me. You don’t have to be noble. Love isn’t always about sacrifice.
“Be a little more selfish, Hia.”
Zee doesn’t smile, but his entire face softens, the lines around his eyes and his forehead smoothing out. He nods, but Nunew knows it won’t be that easy. That’s okay though, Nunew will just have to keep reminding him.
Nunew brings Zee’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to each of his knuckles. Zee waits for him to finish before taking Nunew’s hand and returning the favour, holding his hand with gentle reverence.
“Can you tell me what it looks like, Nhu?” Zee murmurs, warm breath fanning over Nunew’s skin.
“Well, it’s red.” Nunew teases, and Zee huffs out an amused breath, pinching his side. “Okay, okay. It’s kind of shiny. Or glossy. Like silk or satin. The red isn’t too bright, it’s a bit like a ripe apple.”
Zee leans his head against the wall, making a quiet thump sound as he settles back. Nunew follows the movement, nestling his head into the crook of Zee’s neck as he speaks, and welcomes the first new flower—its vivid red petals tipped with golden sunlight—as it sprouts from the ashen ground.
After that, Nunew stops linking their pinkies, instead switching to intertwining all their fingers together. He stops caring about subtlety and propriety, and simply reaches out to take Zee’s hand whenever he feels like it.
It’s Zee who seems to like intertwining their pinkies now though. Nunew sees the wonder in his eyes, the awed little smile that always pulls the corners of his lips when he does it.
And yet, sometimes, when Zee thinks Nunew isn’t looking, his face twists with melancholy.
Soulmates aren’t everything. The string doesn’t make them love each other any differently; it doesn’t solve problems, it doesn’t open communication between them, it doesn’t make them think of each other more.
But it must still be hard, knowing you’re quite possibly the only person in the world who can’t see your soulstring. Being queer, especially in the public eye, can be alienating enough. Adding this on top will take time to adjust to, and Nunew trusts that Zee will be able to work through it.
So when Nunew notices it, he doesn’t call Zee out for it, but he does keep an eye out. When he thinks Zee slips too far into his head, Nunew will tug on his sleeve, or poke his side, or whine for his attention—just to remind him that the string didn’t matter because Nunew was still right in front of him, and he didn’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.
But then there comes a night—well past midnight—when Nunew is tucked in his bed and about to fall asleep, and he receives a text from Zee asking him to come outside. Startled and more than a little worried at the late hour, Nunew throws the covers off and bolts towards the front door, hastily shoving his slippers on as he darts outside.
Zee is standing there, hands in his pockets and back leaned up against a nearby wall with one leg tucked back, propped up onto the brick. It’s late enough that the sky looks almost pitch black—a rich navy blue just a few shades shy of it—and it’s dark enough that Nunew can actually see the stars usually hidden by light pollution. The moonlight casts Zee a handsome silhouette, cool light highlighting all the trim lines of his figure.
He’s looking towards the ground pensively, but when he hears Nunew burst out the door, he turns and the expression melts away to reveal a small smile. It’s the soft one he always reserves for Nunew, and Nunew breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees how unstrained it looks.
“Hia, you’re up so late.” Nunew pulls the door shut behind himself quietly.
Zee pushes off the wall, nodding. “I know. I’m sorry, were you sleeping?”
“Not yet, it’s okay.” Nunew approaches him, sidling close to him. His arm brushes up against Zee’s, and he yelps at how cold his skin is. “Hia! You’re so cold, how long have you been outside like this?”
Nunew frets, pulling on his arm and trying to tug him into his house. Zee resists, planting his feet securely on the ground. He lays a hand over Nunew’s, holding him back.
“Nhu, calm down, Hia’s okay.”
Nunew frowns, but pulls Zee into a hug. He shivers a little when he feels the chill of Zee’s skin against his own, wishing he had thrown on something warmer before he stepped out, but Zee makes an appreciative noise as he leeches warmth from him.
“How long have you been outside?” Nunew asks quietly into the thin fabric of Zee’s shirt.
“A while,” Zee admits, equally quiet. “I was trying to work up the courage.”
“For?”
Zee squeezes him tight for a brief moment, then steps back just far enough that he can look Nunew in the eye. “I have a gift.”
Nunew tilts his head to the side curiously. “A gift? For Nhu?”
“Kind of.” Zee slides a hand into his pocket. “It’s for Hia too.”
When Zee pulls his hand free from his pocket, his entire hand wraps around whatever he had grabbed, so Nunew doesn’t understand until Zee unfolds his fingers to reveal a ring box.
Nunew gasps, heart skipping a beat and hands coming to clench the front of his shirt. “Hia, what…?”
Zee opens the box to reveal two rings, one slightly bigger than the other. They’re dainty silver bands, with three small diamonds set side by side. On both, the centre stone is slightly larger than the side stones, and cut to resemble a four-point star. The side stones twinkle white in the moonlight, but the centre stones, even in the poor light, gleam a beautiful, rich red.
“Nhu said Hia should be more selfish. This is me trying.” Zee reaches to untangle Nunew’s left hand from his shirt, and Nunew gives it to him easily. “These are promise rings for our pinkies.”
Nunew sucks in a breath as he understands.
“You’re my soulmate, Nhu. I didn’t think I had one, but I’m glad it’s you. But I can’t see our soulstring.” Zee’s grip tenses slightly on his hand, and Nunew looks up at him sharply, daring him to apologise. “I… I can’t fix that, so I will accept it. But I want to be able to see something.”
Nunew feels a lump lodge itself in his throat, his eyes stinging. He sees the ring box trembling, feels the shake in Zee’s hand where it’s clasped around his own—he isn’t sure if it’s from nerves or the cold. Nunew brings both his hands to wrap around Zee’s hand, the one not holding the ring box, but his are shaking too. He laughs a little at how ridiculous the two of them are, feeling the tears abate.
Zee smiles at him, stroking his fingers along the inside of Nunew’s palms.
“I already said I can’t and won’t force Nhu to stay with me. But,” Zee continues when Nunew opens his mouth to make a protesting noise, “I want to ask if you’ll stay anyway.”
Breathless, heart thrumming like butterflies’ wings in his chest, there’s nothing Nunew can say except, “Yes. Of course, Hia.”
The smile that stretches across Zee’s face then is like the sunrise; it’s slow but it breathes life into the land with each ray that stretches forth, light cresting the horizon in all of its lovely glory.
It’s like the coming of a sun god—the flowers turn towards him as they bloom, petals bursting wide open under the soft touches of his mellow warmth. Life bustles and blossoms with the rising sunlight, dew-tipped grasses glistening as the first birdsong rings out across a garden well-tended to, and Nunew feels it all flourish.
Zee pulls his hand free from Nunew’s grasp, removing the smaller ring from the cushioning of the ring box, but hesitates. When he speaks again, his tone is low and measured, soft and reassuring. “Nhu. If we wear these, everyone will know. It will make things hard. If you don’t want to accept it, Hia won’t be mad. I promise. This is just Hia being selfish.”
It will make things hard, Zee says. But Nunew can’t help but think it’s already hard. There are already people out there who will hate us if we’re soulmates or not.
Nunew thinks of all the people who seem to go out of their way to misunderstand him, or think he needs protecting from Zee, who want him to step away from queer media now that he's reached a certain level of fame with some excuse that always ends up being poorly disguised homophobia, and who would never accept that he is happy as he is.
He thinks of all those people seeing him glowing with happiness, and with someone who has never done anything but adore him, and them still scrambling to control his life like they know better—and he pities them. They are the true Sightless, for they would never be able to see love in its purest form and accept it for what it was.
And Nunew won’t deprive himself of happiness just to masquerade as someone who appeals to the public—if fame is what he must sacrifice, then it’s not much of a sacrifice at all in his mind.
So he offers his left hand, smiles up at Zee who’s holding his breath, and tells him, “Nhu is selfish too.”
Zee heaves out a shaky breath, the smile on his face tremulous but so utterly sweet as he gently slides the ring onto Nunew’s pinky finger. The metal is chilled against his finger, and Zee’s fingers are still icy from being outside in the cold for so long, but Nunew feels warm all over.
When Zee begins pulling his hand back, Nunew seizes it, plucking the ring box from his other hand. Nunew takes out the remaining ring, snapping the box shut and sliding it into his pocket.
The ring is lightweight, nothing more than a few grams between his fingertips, but it holds the weight of his future with it. The feeling in Nunew’s chest is like a flower just before it blooms—the anticipation of petals unfurling and brushing just behind his sternum.
He bows his head down, pressing a kiss to Zee’s right pinky finger, and hears the way Zee’s breath stutters above him. He straightens back up, slipping the ring onto Zee’s finger, and inexplicably feels like collapsing to his knees when he notices that where the red centre stone rests, their soulstring emerges.
The slightest breeze will tip Nunew over, so it can’t be helped that he falls forward into Zee’s arms the moment he murmurs, “Pruklikhit.”
“Hia,” Nunew weakly thumps a fist onto his chest, “I’m trying not to cry.”
It’s a losing battle though, tears already starting to streak down his face, down his chin, then splattering onto the gravel. Zee lets out a watery laugh, burying his face into Nunew’s hair, and Nunew realises then that Zee is crying too.
“It’s engraved on the inside of the rings,” Zee tells him with a hitch in his breath, and Nunew lets out a quiet sob, thumping him on the chest again when it makes the tears come faster. “I’m so happy, Nhu. It’s always going to be you.”
Nunew hiccups, worming his hand free to find Zee’s. He laces their fingers together, hears the quiet clink the rings make when they collide. “It’s like a proposal, Hia.”
Zee squeezes him tight—until Nunew can barely breathe but can’t imagine telling him to stop—and admits quietly, “Not yet, Nhu.”
Not yet, Nunew smiles. He pulls back slightly, using both hands to cup Zee’s face. He runs his fingers along his cheekbones, wiping away the tear tracks with soft fingers, and feels the apples of Zee’s cheeks lift when he breaks into a smile too.
“Okay," Nunew whispers, and Zee’s hands come up to wrap around his wrists. The red string is nothing more than a few scant inches between them. "Nhu loves Hia.”
The edges of Zee’s eyes crinkle up, and he brushes his lips along Nunew’s palm. “Hia loves Nhu.”
Then, with a tug from his heart, Nunew guides Zee’s face down to meet his. Lips parted and chapped from the cold, Zee kisses him with all the warmth of red stars—Nunew knows they are the coldest of the stars, but that’s fine with him.
It’s all he’ll ever need with Zee by his side.
See, maybe the fates decided that they were destined to meet.
But the rings are their choice, and they will keep choosing each other—again and again and again.
The red stones glint as when they draw each other in for another kiss, and the fates sing.