Chapter Text
"Luka can be a girl's name, you know," his father tells him, sipping his coffee.
"Where."
His father shrugs, an uncertainty in his eyes. "Hungary, I think," he finally answers, although he sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than his son.
Kristaps looks down at his right wrist, at the name he's been waiting sixteen years to see for the first time.
He doesn't think Luka is Hungarian.
Later that night, he goes into his room and finds a piece of cloth. It's a stretchy material and he's not sure exactly where it came from, but he cuts it into a long ribbon anyway.
He takes a moment to look at the name on his wrist again. The bold, royal blue lettering displaying to the world his soulmate. The one person in the universe that was a perfect match for him.
Luka.
He runs a finger across the name, so light it almost feels like it's not him touching it, and wonders what they look like. What they sound like. Where they are right now. What they're doing.
(Oh, who is he kidding. His soulmate's a guy. No girls are named Luka.)
He takes the cloth in his other hand, a sort of forest green, and manages to tie it around his name. His soulmate's name.
No one needed to know.