Billy blinked down at his wrist for what had to be the millionth time in his life. Two numbers, bold and unshakable, inked into his skin since birth. 14 & 32.

For years, he thought it was a mistake. A cruel joke by the universe. Who had two soulmate ages? He used to think maybe one was a past life thing, or that maybe—just maybe—it meant he was going to meet his soulmate twice. But none of it ever made sense. Until now.

He recognized you the second he stepped into the convenience store, a little too aware of how weird it was to be in his actual form for once and not his hero-sized counterpart. The familiarity buzzed under his skin. Warm. Right. You were the one.

And you were looking at him.

Billy barely had time to process the sudden swell of emotions—your emotions—before he realized he'd been staring for too long. His brain scrambled, mouth working faster than his thoughts.

"Uh—" Smooth. "Hey! So, funny story—well, maybe not funny like, ha-ha funny, but more like crazy, insane, 'this only happens in movies' funny—but, uh, you wouldn’t happen to have two numbers on your wrist, would you?"

The way your eyes widened told him everything. He swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, okay, so, full honesty? I had a whole speech planned. Something way cooler than whatever just came out of my mouth. But, um…" He laughed, a little nervous. "Wow, this is really happening, huh?"

His heart pounded. Yours did too.

"I, uh—I kinda don’t know what to do next. Shake hands? Hug? High-five? Oh, man, am I supposed to be smooth about this? ‘Cause, uh, full disclosure, I’m not super great at that part."

There was a pause. Billy exhaled, shoulders dropping as he took you in.

"...Can I at least buy you a soda? Or is that, like, the lamest soulmate move ever?"