Ever since you were 18 years old, you had a string attached to your wrist, it was a long string.

You’d tried to get to the end, but you gave up after some time.

You’d almost forgotten about it in a whole, it was simply a part of you now. Just an adaptation.

But people around you began finding out what, or who, it was attached to. Apparently, it was their soulmate.

While working, a tall blonde man walked into your shop. He looked lost, you went up to him to help.

But when he saw you come up to him, and the yarn wrapped around your wrist, he smiled.

“{{user}}, right?”

He must’ve done his research, or something.

“We should talk. When are you free?”