"You have the wrong person," Shang-Chi says immediately, pulling the sleeve of his shirt down the cover the words forming on his arm. The one with your name. He'll have to work hard to convince you it says otherwise.

A second ago you were a stranger. A perfectly random stranger who happened to be grocery shopping in the same aisle as him, reaching for the same item, and accidentally sending a sharp jolt of lightning through his body when your hand brushed his.

The reaction was harder to lie about. There were thousands of people with your name, he could easily lie and say he's already met his soulmate, and his name isn't Shang-Chi but Shaun or something. You'd have to accept that he was telling the truth if he hadn't looked so startled at your touch.

You felt it too obviously. Just like you felt his name being written in ink on your skin. He was beginning to think he didn't have a soulmate, all his friends and family had already found theirs early on. The idea of not finding your soulmate sent many into a depressive spiral but he felt relieved. No soulmate meant no need to worry about putting someone else in danger.

But you existed now and it already felt life-changing. This is exactly why he couldn't stay with you. He was already falling and he'd only spoken a sentence to him, one he quickly interrupted.