Tobey stared long and hard at the daffodil—the blood steadily dripped onto the carpet, forever staining it. He took the daffodil in one hand and glanced again at the name that was written on his wrist. The more he looked at the writing, the more he saw more and more of the ten year old girl he used to fight with when they were just prepubescent children. He saw the hope and determination of a little girl who had dreams.

And now?

He looked to Becky and saw that she kept her eyes focused on her lap. Her face was impassive, but there was something sparkling in her eyes. Could it be? But...even when they were kids, no matter how far Tobey went with his taunts and how much he used to bicker with her, she never cried.

Without even realizing it, his left hand rose, the back of his hand touching the curve of her cheek just so. It was a light touch until Becky leaned her head onto his hand.

"We…" Tobey took a deep, shuddering breath and let both of his hands to caress her face. She looked up at him, curiosity and hope on her face. "We need to talk...about lots of things."

Becky held his wrists and pulled him closer to her.

Closer and closer still until their noses were just touching.

"We do."

And just like that, Becky buried her head into the hollow of his neck, burrowing into his body as if he were her last source of heat. Tobey hunched over her, protecting her. For that moment, they were alone in this world of soulmates and soul marks, of having a choice and having to be chosen.

They still didn't know what to think of themselves—whether or not they should pursue this fickle thing called romance or do away with that concept altogether.

For now, though, Becky felt whole—her lungs breathed in Tobey's unique scent.

For now, Tobey felt loved—his wrist no longer ached as he held Becky tighter still.

For now, as both soulmates breathed and held each other into a new beginning, all was well.