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I figured it out before she did.
But then, the blonde dummy wouldn't be able to take a hint if it punched her in the face and called her a princess. (I'd know, I've done it.)
Why the clocks on the wrists of everyone else in that orphanage ticked away, but not ours. Never ours. Ours were stuck at 0 from the moment we could comprehend them.
It's what set us apart from the other kids. It's what brought us together.
Two misfits with nobody destined for us, but at least we had each other.
Until the reason we were brought together became the reason that drove us apart.
To me, our matching 0s meant we were meant to be together, that we were destined to have a bond that none of these dumb soulmates could ever match because our bond was our choice and not the result of some stupid destiny.
To her, they meant that she threw herself into research, pouring over books, websites, anything and anyone she could find trying to figure out why she never had a countdown, why she wasn't "worthy of love" and if somehow she could change that by becoming "good enough".
She never listened when I told her she was wrong, that she was already worthy of everything she wanted and so much more, and the universe was a cosmic dumbass for making her believe she wasn't. Love may have been a four-letter word to us, but she was more than enough for it to become something more.
I wonder if she would have listened to me, had I told her I loved her then.
Instead I yelled at her for her absorption, for her obsession, because I was so fucking afraid. I was so afraid that she would decide to leave me on her terms that I drove her away on mine.
Fuck, I was an idiot. Hell, I still am.
It didn't take long after I left for me to put the puzzle pieces together. After all, we'd known each other as long as we could remember, right? And our wrists had been 0 for that long as well. We'd met really young, it wasn't that much of a stretch to think we've been soulmates this whole time
It explained the tingling in my wrist, where I knew the timer lay, when I would see her smile and get butterflies in my stomach. It explained the way that area would warm at the same time as my cheeks when she'd call me cute. It explained why I experienced all the symptoms of soulmatehood without a diagnosis save for what I thought were normal feelings about my best friend in the world.
I couldn't help the hope that bubbled up in my chest that if some time away had caused me to figure it out, maybe she would too. Maybe she would come back, maybe I'd get to deliver a half-hearted apology, followed by the conviction of the tiny "I told you so" that lingered in the back of my brain.
The longer she stayed away, the more my hope drained, and it was replaced by something bitter. I thought surely she'd realized by now. After all she was plenty smart in her own right. So her staying away meant she didn't want me.
Which I couldn't blame her for in the slightest. I was really shitty to her towards the end.
It would be years before I made the decision that I needed to be better. To heal, learn, and grow, so that maybe I'd be worthy of standing in her presence again and delivering an apology that was long overdue.
When I finally reached that point, when I finally saw her again after all that time, I was struck by just how beautiful she'd become. How beautiful and how good. And she was so good. Too good. I wasn't worthy of her. I'm not worthy of her.
I didn't tell her what I'd figured out. Honestly at that point I still thought she'd figured it out too. But I offered her my number that chance encounter, practically begged her to take it with a promise on my tongue that I would apologize if she just gave me the chance.
It would be another week before she gave it to me. I was surprised she'd given it to me at all. I didn't deserve that chance.
But doubts aside, I apologized. The words tumbled out of my mouth in a stream of "I'm sorry"s as everything I'd ever wanted to say to her was laid out between us. Well, almost everything.
Instead of immediately running like I thought she might, or yelling like I thought I deserved, she calmly delivered her piece. And I listened to what she had to say. And I understood.
I affirmed that understanding, and promised that I didn't expect anything from her at all. I'd only wanted to say I was sorry, she deserved that much from me, at least. Then we'd both be able to get on with our lives. I didn't expect it to be enough to bridge the chasm between us, and I was okay with that.
I still don't understand why that was enough.
I don't understand why she forgave me.
But somehow she did. And we started texting, then calling, then hanging out, and it was almost like nothing had changed, except everything had changed, and then I dropped the bomb on her.
She was describing how Sparkles and Arrow Boy realized they were soulmates despite seemingly having had their wrists always at 0 and I said, "And I guess that's how you figured out we're soulmates too, huh?"
I swear you could hear a pin drop in the way she went silent, and in that moment I knew I fucked up.
"Fuck, Adora, I thought you knew, I'm sorry, I-"
And I ran.
And she caught my wrist.
Before I knew what was happening, her lips were on mine, and my brain went into complete shutdown mode.
We still had a lot to work out, a lot to talk about, and the list of things I have to make up for is never ending.
But that night I finally told her I loved her, that I always had.
That night, I learned she loved me too.
I'm writing this with her arms around me, my tail haphazardly across her, and her soft snore in my ear. I can't help but be astounded by how lucky I am to have known her my whole life, that I will get to know her for the rest of our lives, whether I think I deserve it or not.
Though I still try to make up for it every day, she forgave me.
I may still be an idiot, but I'm hers.
And that's all I ever wanted.