Work Text:
Awsten Knight's tattoo said "Oh, uh, thanks! Have a nice day."
He knew this could mean many different things, and theoretically, anyone he encountered might be his soulmate. It could be Ciara, the girl he felt certain he loved; Otto, his best friend and partner-in-crime; Gladys, the elderly lady who lived next door; or even a passing stranger on the street he stopped to help. Whenever he heard the words, a jolt of fear burst through him, however irrational it may seem. He'd gone so far as to ask Ciara never to utter those particular words in that order.
On his way to HEB on a soft winter afternoon, he heard those words too many times to count. First from the woman he'd lent his phone to to call her parents, second from the teenager on the skateboard he'd moved out of the way for, third from the man at the newspaper stand, and fourth from somebody he'd forgotten his encounter with. To say he was uneasy by the time he arrived at HEB was a massive understatement.
He walked through the automatic doors and breathed in the sweet smell of health food. It helped to put his nerves at ease for the time being, though when he went up to pay, not even orange juice could've calmed him down afterwards.
The cashier was a young man, close in age to Awsten, with wild brown hair and sweet, innocent blue eyes. He was wearing a Blink-182 T-shirt and his nameplate read "Geoff."
Awsten deposited his shopping haul on the conveyor belt and smiled up at him. Geoff smiled back, as he always did with customers, and began to scan Awsten's items.
"So, uh, how's it going?" he asked as he rang up the cabbage, much to Awsten's surprise.
"Fairly well, you?" said Awsten.
"I'm doing alright myself." Geoff gingerly placed the orange juice in one of Awsten's shopping bags and continued scanning.
Neither of them made any further attempts to pursue conversation.
"Cash or card?" murmured Geoff as he finished bagging Awsten's groceries.
"Card," said Awsten. "Hey, I really like your shirt. Blink's one of my favorite bands."
A tremor seemed to run through Geoff's body, but he simply brushed it off and said, "Oh, uh, thanks! Have a nice day."
Now it was Awsten's turn to be shocked. He held up his arm to show Geoff his tattoo, and Geoff did the same.
Geoff's tattoo read "Hey, I really like your shirt. Blink's one of my favorite bands."
It was all Awsten could do not to cry. He desperately wanted to run away with this boy, but he knew he couldn't tempt fate, and offered Geoff his hand.
Geoff took it, and Awsten squeezed it reassuringly. He breathed in, collected his bags, and cast a look at Geoff as he left the store.
Awsten didn't speak to anyone on the way home.
When he arrived at his apartment, Ciara noticed his gloomy expression instantly. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said, and set the groceries down.
The next day, the paper came. Awsten was sitting on the couch, thumbing through the police reports section, when something caught his eye.
"On Eleventh Avenue last night at approximately nine, a collision between a young worker and a drunk driver occurred at the intersection with Hestia Boulevard. HEB cashier Geoffrey Wigington was transported to Pine Valley Hospital and is in critical condition as of this publishment."
Awsten drew in a sharp breath, set the newspaper on the side table, and walked out of the apartment complex.
Thirty minutes later, he was at the reception desk of Pine Valley Hospital with a bouquet of cypress in his hand. "May I see a Geoff Wigington?" he asked the very bored-looking receptionist.
The receptionist typed something out on that keyboard of hers, and a few minutes later replied, "Room 4B. Fourth floor, first one on the right. Elevator's that way." She pointed down a small hallway to Awsten's left.
"Thank you so much," he said, and started down the hallway.
Room 4B was exactly where the receptionist said it would be, on the floor labeled, "Intensive Care Unit." Awsten felt chills run down his entire body when he entered the room.
The room itself was depressing as hell, with hardly any color save for the fluids in Geoff's IV bag, which glimmered a sickening shade of red. There was a small chair next to the bed, and possibly a thousand monitors of sorts attached to the occupant of the bed itself.
Geoff, the Geoff from yesterday, was hardly recognizable under all the tubing and bandages. His hair was still there, and still as wild and messy as it had been the day before, but his cornflower-blue eyes were taped shut. Awsten bit his lip and set the flowers on his bedside table, next to the heart monitor beeping far too slowly for his liking.
On his way out, Awsten saw a swarm of nurses flock to room 4B. He held on to the false hope that they weren't in there for what he thought they were. Deep in his heart he knew otherwise. He only prayed they wouldn't tamper with the note on the flowers.
Though Geoff Wigington wouldn't live long enough to read it, Awsten had still written one. Writing the very words themselves made him choke up, but he felt he had to.
It read:
"Rest easy, angel. With love, your soulmate, Awsten C. Knight. 1342 Ferry Lane, Pine Valley, Texas."