Chapter Text
“I didn’t exchange you for Cellbit. I’ve simply told you that Cellbit will make appearances much more from now on, and you should know that. That he will, eventually, move in. I’m simply letting you know that there will be three of us very soon.” Roier huffs and crosses his hands on his chest. He glares at Mariana, looking him up and down carefully. Charlie can't tell what Mariana has hoarded inside him to despise the idea of Roier and Cellbit living with him. Jealousy, perhaps. A flaw of Mariana's which Roier has been afraid the most. “Entonces… Didn’t we agree, before we moved in together, that once one of us happens to find somebody, they can move in if needed?”
Mariana nibbles on his bottom lip. Charlie is able to hear him thinking, going over every Roier’s word and rewinding his reasoning. The pit in his stomach enlarges, tearing down everything he’s gathered so far.
Roier sighs in defeat and starts pacing the room. He keeps rubbing his forearm, guiltily observing their apartment. It reminds Charlie of when he fought with Mariana. Although Roier looks more concerned than Charlie was. He searches the room, recalling the reminiscences with brief glances. “I knew you would be hurt. Just by looking at you, I can tell. I knew that I shouldn’t tell you. I knew that, but Charlie said–“
“What does Charlie have to do with this?” Mariana begs all the spirits that Roier didn't mention Charlie in this situation, and he just heard things. After all, it would explain a lot—the excuses, the unanswered calls and messages—but actually wording out the thought scares Mariana.
His hopes are all shattered when Roier brings his hands to his mouth with a loud gasp, realizing he said something he most likely should have kept to himself. Charlie feels how Mariana’s head spins in circles, the trillion questions enveloping him whole.
Blood boils inside Mariana.
“What did he tell you?” Mariana demands.
Roier, clearly hesitant, puts his hands down, aware of the damage he’s done. He draws circles into his palm with his thumb and avoids looking Mariana into his scorching eyes. “I was afraid that you would feel hurt if I told you Cellbit was moving in. I know you feel left out when I am with Cellbit because you can’t find your soulmate and have troubles. I told Charlie all that, and he– he said that you should hear the truth.”
The world sinks before Mariana. His vision blackens for a second. His heart is hammering inside his chest, and the tingles of cruelty sparkle inside him. A tear or two rush down his face. He’s not sure if he wants to see Roier right now. Honestly speaking, he’s not sure what he wants to do or where he should go to find out the truth.
After all, he will constantly be blanketed by sugar-coated lies and then get slapped by reality. Every goddamn time. No matter which path he picks or which side he takes, it will always be him who is left out for one reason or another.
Charlie stirs from his sleep. He blinks his eyes open. His limbs and back are sore from sleeping on the couch. The television is turned off (Charlie doesn’t remember turning it off; he must’ve been too tired), and the curtains are drawn. The sun tries to break into the living room. Charlie growls, the sound hitching in his throat.
The blanket on him slowly slips from his beaten body. He remembers his phone clutched close to his chest in the hope Mariana will call him back. He wished the latter did. Which makes Charlie wonder what would happen if Mariana called him. Now, it’s smiling at him from the coffee table, right next to a glass of water and a bunch of keys.
The keys... they ring a bell.
Charlie sits up too quickly for his body’s liking, almost knocks the breath out of him, and searches the room further. With big, curious eyes, he observes the room, searching for something that would, for instance, give Charlie a slight touch of comfort.
He spots a person curled up in his armchair. He blinks a few times in case his eyes play a nasty game with him, and he won’t get excited about the loneliness that is currently fulfilling the quest of making fun of him.
The person doesn’t disappear. A smile plasters on Charlie’s face, and he nearly rises to his feet, and runs right after him. The smile dies just as quickly when he takes in the shade of brown in the eyes that are much more different from Mariana’s.
Roier stares at Charlie with nearly closed eyes. His form gives away just how tired he looks. His head is propped on his hand. They exchange an awkward smile, and Roier must have noticed the way Charlie’s beaming form quickly shifts back into sorrow when Charlie plops back down. A big question mark stands on Charlie’s head, looking down at Mariana with a sad gaze. Roier quickly shifts on the armchair and clears his throat.
“You kept– you... Good morning, well, soon to noon,” says Roier, stuttering. Charlie readjusts the blanket and fiddles with it. Charlie dares himself not to burst into tears when the figure who has been sitting in his living room isn’t Mariana. He secretly hoped that the latter would appear in his apartment out of nowhere, reassuring him simply by his appearance.
Charlie lowers his gaze on his shaky hands. “I am pathetic, am I not? I thought that Mariana and I wouldn’t share a future, so I pushed him because I didn’t want him to suffer. For us to suffer.” He wasn’t blind. Maybe slightly. But it felt too good to have Mariana as a partner. Charlie couldn’t get enough of the forbidden taste, and he would never dare say that it wouldn't be illicit anymore. Creating stories in his head that he would never dare to ever recreate in real life. “His only concern was me. From the start, from when his dreams began. He wanted... he wanted to disappear because he believed he’s not enough for me.” Charlie lifts his head at Roier. His friend knows what Charlie means to Mariana and knew even before he understood that Charlie and Mariana are soulmates. “And once he found me, what did I do? Heh, told him to get lost and never look for me, to split ways right after he achieved what he always desired.”
Charlie isn’t sure if Roier is even paying attention to his ranting. Though he’s certain that if it were with Mariana, he wouldn’t doubt a thing. The room falls into silence, and Charlie wants to scream. He wants to cry himself until he falls asleep again because he was so stupid, bashful, and terrified. Maybe if he fell asleep, the dreams would bring him to Mariana, and he could feel the misery he put Mariana into. “I’m an idiot. I thought– I kept telling Mariana that I don’t want to hurt my soulmate and him as well, and at the end, I’ve hurt both of them. That’s exactly what I was scared of the most. Isn’t it ironic?”
“You can’t blame yourself,” Roier says, and Charlie scowls even harder. He’s been hearing this the whole time, but what else should he do if not blame himself? “You didn’t know.” Charlie disagrees with Roier by continuously shaking his head. He grips the fabric tighter between his hands until his knuckles turn white and lets out a shaky breath.
The sweatshirt he wears, and the packet of cigarettes tucked in his pocket prove everything. The constant urge to be with Mariana, getting lost in thought, thinking about Mariana’s arms and how it would feel to wake up beside him every morning, witnessing his vulnerable side. That was all a clue enough for Charlie to realize. He did realize it but didn’t accept it.
“But I should have. No... I knew. The whole fucking time, I was aware of the possibility. I just– I didn’t want Mariana to have such a sad life. I couldn’t accept what he went through. So, I denied it. I was in denial the whole time because I thought that... It’s fucked up, but I genuinely thought that my soulmate had died. Everything showed to me, every single dream led me to that conclusion.” The reminiscences were pointing at Mariana the whole time, unwrapping new people so Charlie would realize that his soulmate was the very same person who stood by his side.
“I believed that he died because he was fed up with life. He didn’t expect anything good for him, not even after meeting his soulmate.” Charlie’s voice quivers, and he bites his trembling lip, preventing him from letting out a single whine. He’s not sure what details Roier is aware of, and so he keeps the description to the bare minimum. “Who’d say Mariana would want to die because he was scared to disappoint me ? A person he’s never met despite sharing the faith with.”
A beat of silence. Charlie takes it as a cue to move on. He takes a breath to calm down his racing heart.
“Where is he right now?” Charlie must ask. “Is he alright?” He gulps down the “without me” part.
Now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t quite comprehend why Roier is here. He should have been with Cellbit. Roier couldn’t possibly know Charlie is a pile of mess who waits for his soulmate to appear in his doorway out of blue. He wouldn’t possibly know that Charlie expected Mariana’s return, even after weeks of not speaking to each other. Painfully long weeks. If Quackity sent him here, it wouldn’t make sense either.
Roier, without any ado, points behind him, and Charlie immediately tilts his head to see into his small kitchen. There on the kitchen island, Mariana has his head pillowed with his hands, sleeping on the counter. His eyebrows are knitted, uncovering thaat something bothers him in his sleep. The gray sweatshirt hugs his form. Red dots are splayed across his cheeks. He keeps clenching and unclenching is hand. As if he’s not actually asleep but only resting.
Charlie’s heart swells in his chest, warmth reentering him the more he observes Mariana. It’s been so long without seeing him. He would like to stand up and approach him, wrap his hands around him, and wake him up with a tender smile, but he’s not sure if he has the right to do so. He was the one who told him to leave. Suddenly appearing before him sounds selfish after all that has happened.
Before, he wouldn’t hesitate so much about an innocent action.
“He got himself drunk last night.” Roier starts a new story and answers one of Charlie’s unspoken questions. Charlie turns his head back at him, not missing the way his heart falls down into a pit of sadness. When Roier spots Charlie’s warm smile, he mirrors it for a brief minute. “He called me and told me that he’s drunk and has the time of his life while being all alone. He said that– that he deserves to be alone and sink in his problems, and he deserves to drink down all the sorrow graved in him.”
Roier brings his leg on the armchair, and just then does Charlie notice he wears his shoes. He plays with his shoelaces for a while, untying them and tying them back. “I couldn’t let him drive like that, so me and Cellbit picked him up. On the way back, he– he kept talking about you and was so honest that... I’m not sure if I should be the one to break it to you.” Roier raises his eyes at him and shrugs his arms. Pink spreads across his cheeks. “He mentioned some missed calls, but neither I nor Cellbit paid much attention to what he was saying. We were taken aback by what he had told us that we couldn’t focus on new facts.” A pause. “When we uhm– we got here... He was so determined to see you the moment we stepped into the block. I told him you’re most likely asleep, and neither us – me and Cellbit – wanted to wake you up and ensured him that he as well wouldn’t wish for your discomfort, but he fucking insisted, and goddammit...”
Charlie waits for the ending of the short retelling with anticipation. “I’ve never seen him so happy about somebody, so excited to check on someone. I’ve never seen that wide smile on him. At least, it’s been so long since I’ve seen him so happy. He beamed the moment he saw you in the living room, telling us that we should move you to the bed. He even wanted to lift you up, but Cellbit stopped him the last moment, telling him it wasn’t a great idea because he’d drunk too much.” Charlie nearly chuckles, letting the sound almost escape past his lips because he can clearly picture Mariana’s worrying face. He can picture the constant questions about whether Charlie is comfortable and not looking satisfied when he can note something that can be even better.
“The TV was on, so I turned it off and cleaned up the place while Cellbit was busy with Mariana in the bathroom.” Charlie shoots him a confused look before Roier elaborates. “Yeah, no, Mariana felt nauseous, and I don’t wanna know how much he had drunk before we picked him up. That’s why I stayed here. Well, to be exact, Mariana didn’t want to head to his room and so Cellbit stayed here and sent me to get some sleep. He watched over Mariana, so he could help him if needed. We then switched sometime early in the morning.”
Charlie thanks him for the patience, sending him a smile which erases completely Roier’s gloomy gaze. Roier hums.
“Mariana always thought of himself as a pile of mess which doesn’t deserve anything. I had always told him that it’s not true and kept him on the surface to show him plenty of people who adored him and wanted to have him around. He claimed that the dreams are hazy because he doesn’t deserve to have a soulmate. That his soulmate hates him for who he is… for what his mother had told him. He often vented his frustration on himself, deliberately hurting himself. His skin is very sensitive, that’s what I’ve learned over the time.” Despite Roier speaking in riddles, Charlie knows what Roier is talking about. It makes it harder for him to breathe. He glances back at Mariana, then back at Roier.
“I can’t tell you what made him change his mind so suddenly. I can’t say if it was my presence, River’s presence or… what he saw in the dreams. Though, I’m grateful to know him and that he is here.”
“I’m sorry it ended this way,” Charlie whispers.
“No, nothing ended. Fuck man, Mariana is too stubborn to let you go, and I’m sure you wouldn’t let go of him either now, right?” Hope twirls around them. Charlie nods. “From the moment I saw you two together, I knew there was something going on. If one of you decided to break it up... It’d be odd, to say the least. You have amazing chemistry.”
Truth to be told, Roier is right. Mariana is the part Charlie has been searching for the whole time and didn’t know he was missing until the encounter with Mariana.
“Charlie?” Mariana calls into the living room. Charlie once again lifts his sight to see Mariana now leaning against the wall for support, clutching his wrist. He looks terrible, his face is pale and hsi eyes are redshot. Exhaustion wraps his body. Charlie nearly winces at the fact that it’s him who has done this.
Charlie shivers. Roier claps his hands together and stands up. He ruffles Charlie’s head, gives a small reassurance, and takes a step back. “I should let you guys have some privacy.” And with those words, he disappears from the apartment completely.
Tension hangs high in the air. It’s odd to see the same person who visited become a stranger and suddenly appear right before his eyes. But his heart doesn’t perceive Mariana as a stranger. It never has. From the moment he saw him, Charlie assigned Mariana a special place in his heart, which he never dared to name.
The eye bags don’t do justice to Mariana. His face is a bit puffed, probably the mix of alcohol and melancholy didn’t do him any good last night. Which brings Charlie back to Roier’s short summary, and his heart clenches at the memory of Roier describing Mariana’s worry.
Mariana seems hesitant about where he should move, and for the first few extremely quiet minutes, he stood by the doorframe that separated the kitchen from the living room, deeply studying Charlie. Then he gathers the courage inside him, and with his head hanging low, he hovers over the couch. He doesn’t exactly face Charlie, whether it’s out of shyness or guilt.
“How are you doing?” Still, he’s the first one to dare to split the wall between them. Charlie stares at him blankly. Before, he would scream at Mariana. He’d point out all that was wrong with his life. He would interpret the question as an insult, a mocking joke. However, before, he was too shortsighted to see what was happening right before his eyes.
Charlie stays silent and observes Mariana as a child who’s looking at a fish tank, seeing the most different sea creatures swimming around. He pushes his glasses up. Mariana takes it as an invitation to sit down on the opposite side of the couch. His hands are shaking, and he rubs them together. He plays with the silver ring on his right hand, not taking eyes off the shiny accessory.
“You know, I’ve wanted to–”
Charlie nearly throws himself on him. He encircles his arms around his neck and brings Mariana into a tight, longing hug. Mariana has to support himself with a hand, clearly surprised by the sudden weight that has nearly dropped him down on the cushions. Charlie buries his head in the crock between his shoulder and head and sniffles into his hoodie. Mariana stays paralyzed, not moving even when Charlie shifts closer to him. Charlie breathes in his smell — a mélange of cheap alcohol and the perfume he wears.
He lets out a mixture of broken giggles and sobs, limiting them by hiding his face in Mariana’s hoodie.
“I missed you so fucking much . I’m... Soy una persona estúpido. I should have.... I’m sorry, Mariana. I’m sorry for being so ignorant toward you and your feelings. I’m sorry for not listening to you. I’m sorry for not reaching out to you... I’m sorry for what I’ve done,” Charlie spills all at once. Mariana remains still, not pushing Charlie away but also not returning the somewhat welcoming hug.
Charlie understands if Mariana would start blaming him.
He’d understand if Mariana never wished to see Charlie. The more important question is whether he would get over it if he actually never got to see Mariana. He knows the answer. If he’s crumbling from simply missing Mariana, knowing his presence has been near him the whole time, what would happen if he actually left? He’d break apart, and he wouldn't be able to focus on anything else because his mind would remind him that somewhere out there lives a man who has impacted his life heavily.
Yeah, sure, he has pushed him away, but Charlie, deep down, knew that Mariana wasn’t going to leave that easily. He was convinced they would find their way back to each other. They are somehow glued together, and Charlie can’t tear away the part of him. He can’t order Mariana to get lost because, that way, he’d take a part of Charlie with him as well. He already got a taste of how it feels to not feel empty.
Charlie dares not to spill tears. Not yet.
“It’s estúpida,” Mariana mutters into Charlie’s hair. Charlie leans back, just enough to take in Mariana’s face, and for the first time in so long, look at his eyes, which he’s been praying to see again. They are always so beautiful. “It’s una persona, feminine, so the adjective must change to the uhm– to the word. That’s why you change it... It’s not important right now.” Mariana darts his eyes away from Charlie’s half-amused face.
Charlie can spot the pride rising up Mariana’s face, together with the red flush, as he looks over the room.
Mariana shakes his head and bites his lip before taking in a gulp of air. “No eres una mala persona. From the very beginning, you were always the flame I kept alive. You were always the one who kept me going, even before we met. Even before I got the chance to meet you, even before I acknowledged that you are meant to be mine and I am meant to be yours,” Mariana whispers. Slowly, he trails his hands down Charlie’s arms, just to test the waters. When Charlie doesn’t flinch away, he places them around his torso with a timid smile. He doesn’t wrap his hands strongly around him, so the smaller man has to shift to hint Mariana that now is not the time to hold the emotions back on the leash but rather spill everything they’ve kept hidden from each other.
Charlie’s breath hitches when Mariana nuzzles his temple. There were times when close proximity played a huge role. Charlie paid close attention to Mariana’s reactions whenever he got too close to the border of what would be considered platonic and looked out for any kind of disgust or disagreement in Mariana’s face. He was never shown any. Which escalated to Charlie clinging to him whenever he got a chance to push down the desire to be affectionate with somebody. The long-night talks after Charlie had fought with his dad left him wondering if his parents had abandoned him just for Mariana to show him how to love again.
Needless to say, Mariana was there for him every time he got emotional about his childhood memories and broke down under Mariana’s touch. Every goddamn time. Charlie took it as moments of weakness and only dwelt on the pretty part: having Mariana close to him, smelling his perfume as he slowly attempted to fall asleep. But looking at it now, maybe it had more benefits than Charlie has realized. Maybe those exact moments were what made his and Mariana’s friendship bloom.
“I am sorry for telling you that we shouldn't see each other again. I was– I was so certain that I’m making a good decision that... I don’t even have an excuse for this one. It was terrible of me, selfish,” Charlie says his sorry and lowers his sight. He focuses on how Mariana’s chest moves, and in that exact moment, Charlie is glad to have Mariana right by his side. Breathing in Charlie’s dumb excuses and pleas. “I never had an intention to hurt you, to get a hold of you, or to throw you away once I had enough. I couldn’t.... My head was convinced that my soulmate was somewhere out there, miles away from me. It turns out it was just a few feet.”
Charlie leaves out a breathless chuckle, still not moving his eyes from Mariana’s chest. He exhales sharply, feeling his head lightheaded, because even now he can’t quite comprehend the current events. It is all too good to be a reality. He’d ask Mariana to slap him, but he's afraid that it'll all be an illusion at the end.
“I thought that you wanted to get rid of me,” Mariana confesses, whispering into the living room. Charlie lifts his head, meeting a sad gaze. Mariana frowns and gulps. His eyes always told more than Mariana ever could. Maybe Mariana was aware that people could read more from his gaze because there was so little Mariana shared with people. He kept close to his heart every secret he held, not giving away a single one. “When you started ignoring, that’s when I thought I had done something wrong. That’s when I started to believe that I had made you hate me. Or you realized that you should hate me but didn’t see it at the beginning. Uncovered a thing or two about me you possibly couldn’t overlook.”
Charlie hums. Then a question pops up in his head, and he has a hard time ignoring its presence. “So, you knew the whole time? That you and me... that we are soulmates?” Charlie wouldn’t feel betrayed that Mariana didn’t tell him. He’s not even sure what he would do if he were in his shoes. He has no clue what others do as well. Roier described the revelation so easily that when Charlie compared it to Quackity and Wilbur, he’s sure it’s not always so easy. There is a lot of thinking, mixed signals, and fear that maybe the person wishes for a completely different partner.
Mariana shakes his head as if it’s not obvious. He scoffs. “I had a hunch. From the first time I saw you, I felt enormous bliss expanding inside me. As if a simple look at you teared down the walls to an eternal peace, and I was free. I could tell that the difference made me look at the situation from a different perspective, but I didn’t give you credit. The flame inside me always set ablaze whenever my eyes wandered your way: the morning visits, the spare time spent with you. My heart was hammering inside my chest, something I have never experienced before with anyone.”
Charlie smiles. Mariana is opening a new chapter, reading it out for Charlie to hear as well. He includes him in his life, and Charlie wants to be engulfed by the story crafted by Mariana. Charlie places his hands on his thighs, wiping away the sweat. Mariana purses his lips and stretches his arms awkwardly. He leans back from Charlie, more out of shyness than out of discomfort, and lands his eyes on the coffee table, right on Charlie’s phone.
“As time went on, the feelings remained. I figured that you may be my soulmate and dwelt on the idea of you and me being together. I tried to rewind the old dreams, ones I was shown before I reached adulthood. Although it seemed meaningless, I didn’t give up on recalling at least one of your memories. I knew I had written some of them down in some random notepad, but I didn’t have my hopes up in finding it.” Mariana motions with his hands, playing a lot with his fingers and nose. He has a habit of hiding his face in his hands whenever he’s the one speaking. “I kept hanging on the thin rope of hope until I found the old notes and remembered. I saw myself in my dreams shortly after you told me to leave you alone. It was that same moment I saw, but through your eyes. I was both amazed and terrified. After so long, I dreamt of something that wasn’t so pleasant to watch.”
Charlie’s breath hitches, and he winces. He could tell just how much Mariana was hurt. However, he expected Mariana to not care so much because he viewed Charlie as another person he interacts with every day. In the end, Charlie hurt Mariana in more ways than one.
Mariana huffs and shakes his head. He closes his eyes. “When Roier told me about Cellbit moving in, I was already in a bad mood. I was afraid because I couldn’t figure out what was happening between you and me and believed that now everyone would pick themselves up and leave me behind. Which is ridiculous, I know.” Charlie would say the conclusion was rushed, but Charlie as well made influential decisions and things he wants to take back at all costs now. “When he told me you were the one who said to not hide the truth, I thought you are trying to make it easier for you to move on and start elsewhere.”
Mariana often gave him a sweet look, probably displaying the happiness bubbling inside him and his genuine joy to keep Charlie around. Charlie liked to think that it meant more. It helped him fall asleep at night before he would be brought in front of countless memories filled with bitter melancholy. He accepted Mariana as a ball of delight and completely disregarded that Mariana has a gloomy side and won’t keep the smile on his face forever.
Charlie rubs his forearm. There’s enough room for excuses, but Charlie limits himself to a low hum. It’s not the best idea to say sorry to Mariana because he’s sure it would come across as rude. He fixes his eyes on his lap, limiting his sight to his pants and trembling hands.
“Don’t feel guilty. I mean, both of us made mistakes out of pure conviction that it’s definitely in place. The most important fact is that we are here, isn’t it?” Mariana shoves Charlie just slightly. The sombre atmosphere is slowly but surely misting Charlie’s thoughts.
“I feel sorry for what I’ve said and done,” Charlie mutters and sighs in defeat. If only words were enough in this situation. Plus, repeating himself loses its effect and may have the opposite impact, which Charlie avoids no matter what.
Mariana tugs at the sweatshirt Charlie is wearing. Charlie looks back up at Mariana. The wide but sincere grin takes Charlie by surprise. “You’ve kept it?” Charlie arches his eyebrows. He observes the hoodie before the blush spreads across his cheeks, and he fakes a cough. He wets his lips. “I found it in my laundry, and... I missed you. It reminded me of you.” After all, it belongs to Mariana. Charlie bets he must look all pathetic now. Still, he doesn’t hear Mariana crackling up from laughing at Charlie and his stupidity.
Mariana ducks his head, running his brown eyes over Charlie. The sweatshirt is noticeably bigger than the clothes Charlie wears, but it doesn’t stick out. It wraps his upper body just well. “It fits you,” Mariana concludes with a proud smile on his face. “It looks great on you.”
Charlie breathes out with ease. Finally, the stress comes from him, and he can think clearly before being submerged for totally different reasons. He’s glad Mariana switched the topics for a while despite Charlie having a ton of questions in his mind. He would like to get answers for all of them, but that’s impossible.
Charlie sits back, unwrapping his body from Mariana to catch a breath, and crosses his arms on his lap. “How come you never ended it?” Confusion comes from Mariana. “Your life.” Charlie’s voice trails off, not having enough courage to end the sentence. Despite it not happening, it will haunt him for a long time.
“Oh.” Mariana shifts on the couch and adjusts. He scratches his cheek. “To this day, the only memory I remember clearly is that– You were on a call with someone, Quackity, I suppose, and you kept talking about me. How afraid you are of me because there is only bad and no good in your dreams. You went on, listing stuff I myself never thought of as terrible, and I understood that all the time I was scared to show up in front of you, so you won’t be disappointed in a man getting slowly eaten up by misery. My mother constantly told me I was worth nothing.” Charlie can recall a worse choice of words. He bites back on the remark. “So, I didn’t want to make you worried and started thinking... That was one of the last dreams I’ve ever had. I am not certain what made me stop dreaming, but from there I had troubles.”
Charlie can’t help but smile. Mariana mirrors the small action. Charlie has noticed he is all stiff despite willingly talking about his childhood. He doesn’t want to push him further, and for a moment he thinks it will end here and they will wrap it up and return to normal. Instead, Mariana now has a good reason to make Charlie stay.
Suddenly, a hand wraps around Charlie’s shoulders. “Don’t beat yourself too much. It's weird, I know,” Mariana says. Charlie shakes his head. He leans his head down on Mariana’s shoulder, slowly, to see if Mariana will perhaps pull away from him once again. He doesn’t.
“It’s not that.”
“Then what?” Mariana asks, absolutely clueless.
Charlie shrugs, lost in the train of his thoughts. “It feels as if I’m interrogating you instead of getting to know you. I dunno.” Uncertainty creeps up Charlie’s whole body, and he shudders. Mariana's grip strengthens and pulls Charlie closer.
“It’s not bad to ask questions. Personally, I prefer asking over yelling at somebody out of frustration. We both came to a conclusion that we could have easily avoided if we had posed questions instead,” Mariana proves his point. Even now, Mariana limits himself to the familiar touches that Charlie assigned as simply platonic and runs his other hand down Charlie’s arm. He places his lips atop Charlie’s head. “So, now it’s a great time to say the desires out loud and don’t hold them back anymore.”
“But you are not asking them,” Charlie reasons and nearly whines. He pouts and looks up at Mariana. He catches the small glitter in Mariana’s eyes.
The taller man shrugs. “I feel like you already told me enough. You seek for me to comfort you whenever you fight with your father or whenever you have some new story to fill me in. It was always you who had something to share, and I followed you. It was me who had a hard time finding excuses to visit you whenever I felt down, because you practically knew nothing about me.”
Realization hits Charlie. Mariana has always spoken in riddles. Charlie just made, once again, a conclusion because if Mariana felt like it, he would elaborate. Perhaps Mariana preferred to just slightly mention the events in his life rather than talk to its core about them.
“Remember when you told me you saw someone and you were happy to see them?” Charlie stops and looks at Mariana to see if he has caught up. Mariana knits his eyebrows together and opens his mouth. Charlie now doubts that Mariana would carry the moment around and feels stupid for asking him. Mariana’s grip loosens, but once Charlie attempts to slip out, Mariana pulls him back and nearly falls down. Charlie yelps, and Mariana snickers.
“You’re not getting away until you explain.” Mariana nudges Charlie.
Charlie regrets it and groans into his hands. “You were, uhm– lying on top of me, and we were talking, and you mentioned that you saw a familiar face. Does it ring a bell?”
Mariana continues to make that bewildered face, deeply searching inside his head. Seconds pass, and Mariana gasps in realization. “Yeah, that. I do, I remember.” He tilts his head. He must know what Charlie’s next words will be. “Go on.”
“I thought you saw yourself in your dream. It made sense in my head, so I didn’t pry, but now it leaves me wondering... Who did you see?” Charlie can’t think of anyone. He thought Mariana had finally found his soulmate, and Charlie ended the long debate. It would make sense. Mariana seemed happy, despite not sharing much. The stars that were glittering in his eyes were engraved in Charlie’s head.
“An old friend of mine. Rivers—that’s her name. We spent a lot of time together when we were kids, but she moved away. All three of us—me, Roier, and Rivis—were inseparable. So, when she told us she’s moving away, we were devastated. We are still in touch to this day. She didn’t tell me she was around. However, I spotted her, and we began talking. It was a nice encounter, short-lived, but I felt happy,” Mariana says quietly. “Rivers is one of the core people in my life, without whom I would not be a better person.”
“She must mean a lot when you talk about her with such a smile,” Charlie remarks. Mariana nods, not denying Charlie’s words. Charlie can tell a few times he’s seen Mariana’s close friend, and he could tell that she made an impact on Mariana’s life, just as Roier did.
Serenity settles between them. Charlie is not sure if he wants to break it and continue talking to Mariana after he has carelessly thrown away the valuable time he could spend with Mariana, his soulmate. Mariana doesn’t slip the arm from around Charlie’s shoulders. Sitting side by side. Charlie reaches for his phone just to check his notifications and lays it back on the coffee table.
Charlie sighs, pleased. Mariana rubs circles into Charlie’s forearm.
Seconds and minutes pass. The realization slowly seeps into Charlie, and he chuckles.
“What?”
“Nothing, just odd.” Charlie leans completely onto Mariana. The soulmate part doesn’t completely settle down inside him. The pit in his stomach is slowly closing, but everything seems so rushed. As if what has happened these last hours isn’t actually happening. It’s not his imagination, he knows. He’s sure it wouldn’t be able to remake the giddy feelings inside Charlie whenever Mariana slightly touches Charlie. That’s more than real.
“Ahora que todo está arreglado, creo que deberíamos hacerlo un poco más oficial,” Mariana utters. The words pass Charlie without making a stop by his head. It useless. He wouldn’t understand anyway. Charlie looks at Mariana with big eyes, waiting for him to repeat himself in a language Charlie will comprehend.
“Maybe we are not the last two people to ever exist, but I think there won’t be any regrets left, right?” The words are too familiar. Charlie has heard them before, surely. He digs down in his head.
“I would lean in and kiss you if I knew there were just us and nobody else in this world,” Charlie murmurs. The brown pools shrink, and something settles inside Charlie. Mariana’s mouth opens and closes multiple times before a fit of chuckles escapes him, his cheeks heating rapidly.
Charlie stays speechless. Red paints his face, spreading just to his ears. He blinks multiple times. Mariana is not kidding. He’s watching Charlie with focused eyes, his smile displeasing for him only. Charlie looks down at his hands, embarrassed.
Nervousness seems to take control over both of them when Mariana retreats his arm from Charlie. “You were the one who suggested it back then,” Mariana utters, sounding a bit sadder than Charlie imagined. Charlie reaches out for his hands, placing them on top of his, and shakes his head rapidly just so Mariana won’t settle for the bad idea. They’ve just cleared things out, he can’t deal with another fight right now after finding his soulmate.
“No, no, I’m just... I was taken aback. It’s all new, and... But the offer is still up,” Charlie explains and laughs. The sound escapes hardly from between his lips. He feels like throwing up. The excitement in him is pushing him over the edge, but Charlie doesn’t mind. Mariana will be there to catch him. He trusts that he will be there for Charlie.
Therefore, they lean in for a kiss. It’s messy and uncoordinated, but yet so sweet and welcoming. Charlie can still taste the alcohol on his lips and the scent of cigarettes lingering between them. His lips are damaged because Mariana keeps biting his lips whenever he’s under pressure. Their glasses clack, and Charlie is reminded that both of them have poor eyesight. The burst inside Charlie erupts with the most pleasing emotions Charlie has ever tasted. Mariana’s cheeks turn pink once they break apart, looking deeply into each other’s eyes.
“You are all red,” Mariana remarks. A useless fact, Charlie supposes. Charlie rolls his eyes and cups Mariana’s cheeks, running his pads over the soft skin. Roier was right, it feels fragile just under his fingers, afraid that he will crash Mariana. It sparkles Charlie up to explore Mariana on his own without the bulge stuck in his throat. Mariana must have as well noticed that he is no longer controlled and lands his hands around Charlie’s torso.
“I’m sure you will make me the happiest man out there,” Charlie mutters against Mariana’s lips.
“Didn’t I already?” Charlie scoffs and playfully shoves Mariana.
The summer is slowly wrapping up. The clouds appear in the sky much more than they used to, and the temperature slowly descends. Perhaps it’s not so hot these past few days, but Charlie can’t just give up on wearing short sleeves. The rustling of the bedsheets echoes in the bedroom, and Charlie groans. He turns around, seeking a better position before his alarm goes off.
He hears Mariana already scrolling through his phone, but Charlie doesn’t want to give up on the last ounce of sleep he can achieve.
“What time is it?” Charlie exhales and takes a peek at Mariana.
“7:04,” Mariana answers. He knows Charlie has a hard time standing up, so Charlie contemplates if Mariana is making fun of him just to wake him up sooner or is telling the truth. Mariana sleeps shirtless, a fact Charlie acknowledged right before getting ready to bed. He’s still adjusting to the fact that he shares a bed with Mariana, of all people. With a person he wished to spend the rest of his life with.
Mariana places the phone down and lies back down, inching his hands to grab Charlie and hug him. Charlie buries his head in Mariana’s chest, inhaling his scent. Mariana wakes up early, so he’s often prepared by the time Charlie is just fighting his way out of bed. He’s learned that if he spends more time with Charlie in bed, it’s easier to get him up.
“You know you have to eventually get up, right?” Mariana teases. He kisses Charlie’s shoulder, then his temple. His head is drunk from the way Mariana makes Charlie feel inside. He bets Mariana is on the same boat.
Charlie hums. “Ten more minutes.” Charlie can hear Mariana roll his eyes. The taller man shifts down, so his head is at Charlie’s level. Charlie is forced to open his eyes and whines at the amount of sunlight in their bedroom. He runs his hand over his eyes until he sees sparkles.
Mariana keeps stealing kisses until he plants one on Charlie’s lips. Charlie kisses back, just as he always does. They keep this a morning routine. Snuggling in the bed before they are forced to get up and go to work. It pains Charlie to leave the warmth of their bed. They keep kissing, Charlie humming in the way Mariana teases him.
They exchange quick looks filled with love and giggle whenever their noses bump. Mariana’s glasses are askew, and Charlie fixes them in an instant. He wears his glasses once he actually wakes up and doesn’t take them off for the rest of the day.
When he gives Charlie another kiss, Charlie hears the low vibration of his phone. He checks to see if someone is calling him. Mariana pulls him back and prevents Charlie from reaching for it. “Leave it for later.”
“It can be someone from work,” Charlie protests, successfully escaping Mariana’s strong hold. The taller man pouts, annoyed Charlie made it out. He folds his arms and watches Charlie sit up in their bed, shaking off the comforter. Charlie reaches for his phone, picking up the call.
“Hello?” Charlie brings the phone to his ear.
His smile freezes. “Hi, Charlie. Mom’s here.” Charlie has nearly forgotten the voice of his own mother. She hasn’t spoken to him in months, and Charlie long ago threw away the hope that she would call him out of her own will. Before, they used to text each other, but she stopped. Charlie never asked her why. He knew she would give Charlie anything he pointed at, but she was always shushed down by his father, who wouldn’t dare look his son in the eyes.
“Hi,” Charlie’s voice drops. He may not face Mariana, but he feels the eyes burn his back. Mariana sits up next to Charlie to witness him scowling.
“I am sorry I didn’t call you sooner. You know how it is: busy with work. I forgot, but once I’ve realized I haven’t heard of you in so long, I had to call you.” She doesn’t blame Charlie for not calling her, not even once through the long period. She takes it all on herself. She was always like this, taking everything as her fault. It didn’t always benefit her, and Charlie would dare to say it was more of a flaw than anything. Though people took advantage of it, whenever there was something that wasn’t to the liking of his father or his siblings, they would spit it in her face. Charlie never dared to be so rude to his mother.
“I hope you weren’t asleep. It’s quite early in the morning, but I figured that if you have your shift today, you may be up.” Charlie could hear her smiling.
“No, I’m up. Going to work.” Charlie keeps his voice low, afraid it will crush him and he will spill tears into the phone call. Her sweet voice fills the call, and Charlie is just a step away from telling her about everything. Maybe she was absent, but Charlie has a much better relationship with her than with his father. His mom would always hear him out, while his father would tell him that boys aren’t supposed to be worried and cry over spilled milk.
Mariana takes his hand idly. His fingers tickle Charlie’s hand, and Mariana knows he has won when Charlie breaks into a smile.
“Oh, are you? I can phone you later if so,” his mother suggests.
“No, no, it’s fine. I’m not in a rush,” Charlie assures her. Silence falls between them. “How are you doing?” It’s an awkward question. Just so Charlie won’t have to deal with the nothingness, he instead settles for a slow-paced conversation between him and his mother.
“You know there’s not much to tell you. All the same, the same house with the same people living in it. I cleaned your room the other day, there was so much dust I thought I’m going to choke myself on it.” His mom chuckles. Charlie repeats after her. “I found your old school notepads. I didn’t know you took Spanish.”
Charlie opens his mouth in question. “Did I?”
“That’s what I’m asking.” Charlie supposes it wasn’t for school, based on the notes. He smiles. If Mariana smiled because he heard his mother and realized it as well, it remains a mystery. He focuses on his hand.
“So, anything new? Do you have something you wanna talk about or all the same?” His mom poses the same question to Charlie.
Charlie turns to Mariana, whose cheeks are flushed. His head is lowered. He fails to hide the small smile on his face. Charlie supposes it’s not a bad idea to share with her the crazy story about a person he has met months prior. Looking at Mariana, his heart fills with happiness, just as it did the first time he saw him. The best is that Mariana feels the same. He always has.
It’s been a rough time, one that Charlie will proudly recall years from now on. It’s strange how strangers can quickly befriend each other and fall in love. He’d say the love has been hiding under the blanket made out of doubts, but it has made its way onto the surface and opened Charlie’s eyes.
Mariana lifts his gaze at him. Charlie nuzzles his temple with his nose, fighting back the giggles. “I.... There is something I wanna tell you.” Charlie settles on saying. He toys with Mariana’s fingers, borrowing the rings and sliding them on his, seeing the difference between their hands.
His mom listens. “I’ve found my soulmate. I know my soulmate,” Charlie awkwardly declares. He doesn’t stop watching Mariana’s face, focusing on the only person in the room who gives him the most amount of comfort.
“Charlie, that’s– that’s amazing. I’m so happy to hear that. What are they like?”
Charlie watches the flames in Mariana’s eyes, eagerly waiting for Charlie to tell his mom about him. “His name’s Mariana. He– he was a neighbor living in an apartment next to mine. We talked to each other once, and we became friends. He’s a great person, one that makes me smile a lot.” Charlie cringes at the way he’s talking about Mariana to his mom like that. However, he keeps focusing on Mariana’s face, acting as if it’s him he’s talking to, and on his mother on the other line of the phone. “I was afraid to say that because I didn’t know if you approved of the fact that he’s not a girl.”
The saying of his father floods into his mind, the numerous times when his father asked him about his soulmate, a possible bride who existed just in his head. Charlie never broke down that the person living in his dreams isn’t a girl and was horrified at the thought of revealing the truth. He didn’t want to deal with the consequences.
“Charlie, your father may act like an idiot sometimes, but I don’t care about what he says.” Charlie bites his tongue. He has so much more to say about his father, but he keeps it to himself. Now is not the time to talk about the injustice he has experienced as a child. “I am glad you have found your soulmate.” His mother never disclosed what her dreams were like. Charlie often thought that his mother never married the person she saw in her dreams.
“The most important is, are you happy?”
Charlie’s heart skips a beat. Just by looking at Mariana, it’s more than obvious. Mariana remains smiling, waiting for Charlie to answer with a concealed breath. Charlie tangles their fingers together, holding Mariana’s hand ever so strongly, just to prove his statement right. Mariana ducks his head to the side. The way Mariana looks is ravishing, as the rays fall down on his face. He flutters his eyes innocently.
Oh, he would give up anything just for Mariana, he would lay the world before his legs. Mariana wouldn’t hesitate to do the same. He's convinced.
“The happiest I’ve ever been.”