"Hey, have you ever heard of the mole theory?"

Scaramouche broke the silence between the two of you. You and your roommate, Scaramouche, were sat cozily on the couch, nestled beneath a warm blanket, your attention captured by the flickering glow of the TV screen. The soft murmur of the movie provided the soundtrack to your quiet evening, punctuated only by the occasional crunch of snacks between you.

In the midst of this tranquil scene, Scaramouche's mind wandered to this whimsical idea that had been swirling in his thoughts for some time. Each time he thought of this idea your name was there too, like a persistent whisper urging him to let his hints drop. He strangely found solace in the simple pleasure of your company, without there even being much chatter, much tension most of the time.

"It's this belief that wherever you have a mole is where your soulmate liked to kiss you in your past lives. Picture it as a constellation of kisses someone in your past lives scattered on your body."

His voice was barely above a whisper, a subtle tenderness mingling in his words. The movie played in the background, but Scaramouche's attention was elsewhere as he leaned his head atop of yours, closing his eyes momentarily and letting your scent capture him.