Soulmates were something most people spent their lives looking for. They could be romantic, platonic, or familial, leading to instances of people having more than one in some cases. Soulmates were indicated by soul marks which appeared on the skin of both people in the relationship. It contained symbols or words that represented both participants. Some people liked to flaunt their marks and sought to find their soulmate, or soulmates, as quickly as possible. Others wanted to meet their soulmate naturally, not going out of their way to cover it, but not revealing it either. The placement of the mark helped determine their decision.

Virgil Black had one soulmate. He knew this because he had one soul mark that was located on his back. He'd only seen it in pictures and sometimes he could see it in the mirror if he looked. It was a large shield with an elegant design on it. There was a storm cloud at the top, hovering over a castle. Under the castle were roses whose stems twisted together with the bottom of the shield.

According to his best friend, Patton, his mark was one of the most beautiful he'd ever seen, though he was sure he was exaggerating. If he was honest, it worried him how big it was and how intricate the lines were.

His friend and his soulmate, Logan, shared a simple mark on the backs of their neck. It was an atom with a nucleus shaped like a heart. It wasn't hard for Virgil to figure out that the soul mark represented Logan's intellect and Patton's heart. They were an "opposites attract" situation in many ways, but there was no doubt that they were meant for each other.

Virgil lived in their guest bedroom at the moment. He was a struggling artist, trying to create new works of art for his blog despite his recent art block. He was fortunate enough that Logan and Patton refused to let him pay for rent. While he certainly made some money from commissions and websites like Redbubble, he didn't have nearly enough income to cover a monthly rent; though, he had offered to do so when he first moved in and the two had shot him down immediately.

He stared at his sketchbook and tapped the tip of his pencil lead against it, trying to come up with something, anything, to draw. There was a certain emptiness in his head that made him want to lay down and stare at the ceiling.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. Virgil closed the sketchbook and stood up from his desk. He couldn't bare to look at the blank page taunting him any longer. He trudged down the hallway into the open kitchen and living room. Patton was preparing some sort of baked delicacy that already smelled incredible. It brightened his mood just a little bit.

He looked up and smiled as he saw him. "Hey Virgil! How goes the art?"

"Not good..." he mumbled, taking a seat at the counter to talk to him. Patton frowned and tilted his head questioningly. "I just can't seem to get any inspiration. It feels like I always create similar things, and that's fine, but right now, I'm struggling to make anything, you know? Even the most common subjects are causing me to struggle. It's infuriating..."

A lump was caught in Virgil's throat as he spoke his feelings out loud. He swallowed harshly as he tried to hold back frustrated tears. He took deep breaths as he buried his face in his hands.

Patton hummed thoughtfully, looking sympathetically at his friend. "Maybe you need a break?" he suggested. The artist looked at him with a skeptical expression. He rolled his eyes a little as he went back to preparing his dessert. "I don't mean like, stop drawing for ten minutes and go back to it, I mean a real break. Try something else for a while and then come back to art."

"Like what?" Virgil asked reluctantly.

"Well, I could teach you baking but-"

He shook his head immediately. "Nope! Absolutely not! We're not trying that again, I still have the scar from last time," he cut him off. Patton smiled sheepishly and apologetically. "I don't blame you for it, but no... working in the kitchen with sharp utensils and very hot appliances is just... not good for someone like me."

"Okay, you could ask Logan to teach you some things about science," the baker said. "He knows a lot about most subjects, so if you like one in particular, he could teach you about it."

"I already went to school, thanks," he muttered sarcastically.

Virgil fidgeted with his fingers and bounced his foot against the floor. The movements caught Patton's attention and his expression lit up with an idea. The darkly dressed man looked at him and immediately felt a pit settle in his stomach. He didn't like when he got that look on his face. "Whatever you're about to suggest, maybe don't."

"I was just thinking," Patton began, mixing some sort of frosting with a spoon. A bright smile had spread across his face as he thought more about it. "Maybe you're restless. You're not getting enough activity in your life."

He squinted at his friend suspiciously. This was a true statement. Virgil went for the occasional walk, but otherwise wasn't physically active. He was an artist, so he spent most of his time indoors trying to draw or paint something. He glanced down at his bouncing foot. Perhaps some kind of physical activity could benefit him. Perhaps it could provide a way to release his anxious energy.

"What... What did you have in mind?" he asked cautiously.

Patton let out a happy gasp and grinned at him even wider. He winced, somewhat regretting asking. "What about yoga? Or DANCING! Dancing can be so fun and I'm sure there's beginner classes for adults! Or both! There's a dance studio a few blocks down from the bakery, you know! I think they offer all sorts of classes, like ballet, jazz, tap, salsa, and probably a ton more! They have yoga classes too!"

"Okay, okay, just slow down for a minute please, my head is killing me," Virgil said, rubbing his temples. He didn't love the idea of dancing. He was worried he'd make a fool of himself, but it wasn't a bad idea either. "Maybe I can start with some yoga or something..."

A few days went by before Virgil actually decided to check out the dance studio near his friend's bakery. They did indeed have many classes to pick from and though he wanted to start with yoga, Patton convinced him to sign up for ballet.

He adjusted the bag on his shoulder, feeling self conscious and like he was being stared at as he entered the studio. It was big and busy. There were several practice rooms, almost all of which had music of various genres emitting from them. Virgil swallowed as he approached the front desk.

"Um, hello?"

The young woman sitting behind it looked up and smiled brightly at him. "Hi, what can I help you with?" she asked.

"I'm here for the beginner's ballet class," he said, looking around to avoid making direct eye contact with her. "I registered online, do I need to sign-in? Or can you point me in the direction of the right room?"

She nodded and pointed toward the hallway. "Beginner's ballet is in the first room on the left, your instructor will have a sign-in sheet for you."

Virgil thanked her and headed toward the room. The door was mostly closed, but not all the way. He could hear music coming from inside. Quietly, he pushed the door open enough to enter. He froze as he stepped into the room. There was only one person inside, dancing. He appeared to be quite adept at it, making Virgil wonder if he was in the wrong room or if he was the instructor.

The man moved with such grace and passion that the artist wished he had his sketchbook with him. He could feel emotions behind his dancing that made him see colors and stories in his head. His fingers suddenly itched for a pencil.

As the music ended, the dancer noticed his presence. He saw him in the mirror and immediately turned around. "Hi! Sorry about that, I didn't hear you come in," he said with a charming laugh. He approached him and offered his hand. "My name's Roman, are you here for the beginner's ballet class?"

"Yes," Virgil managed, swallowing nervously as he took in the man's appearance.

He was gorgeous from head to toe. His skin had a bit of golden glow to it and he was shimmering with sweat. His hair, despite being slightly messy, seemed to fall into perfect waves atop his head. Under his loose shirt, he could see muscles and his workout leggings left nothing to the imagination when it came to his thighs. Virgil's heart raced as he stared into his caramel colored eyes.

It wasn't until the man repeated himself that he realized he wasn't listening. He shook his head out, flushing. "Sorry, I missed that, what?"

"I asked what your name is," Roman said.

"Oh, Virgil," he answered quickly. "Virgil Black."

The dancer nodded and moved across the room. He returned with a clipboard in hand, clicking a pen open. "There you are," he mumbled. After he checked a box, he looked back up with a smile. "Let's get you ready while we wait for the other students to arrive. Did you happen to bring ballet shoes of your own, or do you need to borrow a pair?"

"I brought my own," Virgil said.

"Alright why don't you put them on while I go get some water?" Roman suggested, reaching up to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

He walked across the room to where his equipment was as the artist sat down. He watched the man drink water as he pulled off his sneakers. Something about him made it difficult for Virgil to take his eyes off of him. It took him a moment, but he tore his gaze away. His heart was racing in his chest as he slipped into his ballet shoes. His hands were trembling as he did so.

"Uh, hello?" a new voice said, making his head snap upward.

Another student had arrived. Virgil exhaled with relief; he didn't really want to be alone with the handsome ballet instructor. More people came in and were checking in with Roman. He took a moment to breathe and calm down. He always got nervous around people he found attractive, and boy did he find this man attractive.

He's... he's breathtaking, he thought to himself.

A few minutes later, all the students had arrived and were lining up in rows per instruction. Roman stood in front of the room and beamed at everyone. "Good morning! My name is Roman, nice to meet you all," he said. "I'm your instructor for today. I'm happy to have you joining me, and whether you're picking ballet back up or just beginning, I hope you enjoy today's class! We're going to start out with some stretches to make sure no one hurts themselves, so follow my lead."

Thirty minutes later, Virgil was sweating his ass off. They'd done ten minutes of stretches and warm-up before moving on to basic ballet. He'd done more plies than he could count and his legs were starting to feel a bit numb. They learned each of the five positions and then moved on to bar work. He was gripping the bar tightly enough for his knuckles to appear white. He tensed his jaw, tensing his foot as he extended his leg out behind him as far as it would go. The artist lowered it again and relaxed.

"Great work everyone!" Roman encouraged, clapping. "We're going to take a five minute break, so get some water or use the restroom if you need to."

Virgil exhaled and sank to the floor, panting a bit. He wasn't the only one to do so. Many of the other students were clearly exhausted too. He reached up to massage his scalp, feeling some of the tension dissolve.

He could admit that he was tired, but having fun. His body was protesting to the amount of physical activity it was doing, but he could his hormones balancing out. The exercise was doing him good and he knew it even if he was exhausted; thanking Patton was definitely on his to-do list.

The five minute break ended quicker than he would've liked it to. He reluctantly stood back up and stretched. "Whew, it's hot in here, huh?" Roman said as the class got back into their rows. Virgil's breath caught in his throat as he reached for the hem of his shirt. The ballet instructor pulled it off in a swift movement, using it to wipe the sweat from his neck. His muscles were well-defined but not chiseled. Virgil's mouth felt dry as he blinked slowly and forced himself to look away from his stomach. He could feel the heat in his cheeks. "Alright, follow my lead, we're going to do some steps for a bit and then start cooling down."

Roman turned around as Virgil looked up and time seemed to slow down. It didn't take him more than five seconds to recognize the large shield that appeared to be inked into his skin. He felt his heart rate rising, but not because of the exercise.

Oh my god... he thought to himself. Oh my god... he's...

He couldn't say it, even in his mind. He tried to ignore how his stomach churned uncomfortably. His head was beginning to spin. His vision was starting to go spotty as he reached up to feel his head. Virgil stopped what he was doing, feeling like he was going to pass out. His feet were swaying beneath him and the room started to tilt.

A pair of hands grabbed ahold of his shoulders and a voice that sounded like it was underwater spoke to him. His eyes opened and he looked at Roman. The ballet instructor had stopped teaching and approached him. He was watching him closely with a worried expression.

"Hey, are you alright? You look like you're going to be ill," he said. Virgil just panted a bit, his breathing still unsteady. Roman guided him to the side of the room where his equipment bag was. "Did you bring water with you? Here, come sit down, have some of mine. You can use my bag as a pillow if you want to lie down."

Virgil couldn't protest as he did as he was told. He sipped from Roman's water bottled and then laid down against the cool floor. He tried to regulate his breathing and calm down.

"Sorry for the interruption, but my students' health is the most important thing in the world to me, so I wanted to make sure he was alright. If anyone else is feeling sick, please let me know, we can take another break or you can sit out for a while," the instructor said.

The class continued without any other pauses, but Virgil didn't get back up. He felt humiliated; he'd nearly passed out in front of an entire group of strangers and his soulmate. He scrunched his eyes closed at the thought. Roman was his soulmate. He knew it, not only because of the mark. He could feel it in his chest when he looked at him.

Virgil was torn between feeling delighted and terrified. Should he tell him? Would he be disappointed? Should he wait? What was he supposed to do?

The class ended and the students all trickled out of the room. The ballet instructor made his way over to Virgil, who was beginning to sit up. "Hey, are you feeling any better?" he asked, a sympathetic smile on his face. The artist shrugged a little bit, feeling his cheeks still flushed. Roman took a seat in front of him. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not really... I'm just not good with crowds and attention..." he mumbled honestly. "So, as if feeling like shit wasn't enough, everyone was looking at me, and probably judging me..."

"I don't think anyone was judging you," Roman said. He had a frown on his face. "At least I would hope not. Ballet is a sport. It takes a lot of training, practice, and physicality. No one should judge you for not being used to the strain on your first day. If that bothers you though, we have one-on-one sessions you can book."

Virgil looked up curiously and the ballet instructor shook his head at himself. "Sorry, that was probably a dick thing to say, it probably sounded like I was just trying to get you to pay more money," he said apologetically. "I didn't mean it that way though. I meant that if you liked ballet and you wanted to learn more without worrying about other people, there are individual practice sessions you can book, if you want to."

"Well... I- uh," he tried, feeling his throat closing up. He swallowed and nodded. "I'd like that, but uh, are you one of the instructors available for that?"

Roman's expression brightened. "Yes, I'm one of the instructors. I don't get many requests for one-on-ones, lots of women who don't prefer a man teaching them or who are simply looking for a hook up, you know?"

"Well, I'd like to learn a bit more, if I could schedule a session with you," Virgil said.

"That would be fantastic! I look forward to it! Here, here's my card with my contact info and you can tell Nina at the front desk what time and who you want to book with," he rushed out, pulling out a business card from his bag and handing it to him with a grin. "I'm in the studio almost all five days of the week but off on weekends."

The artist began to stand as he looked down at the business card. "Thank you," he said softly.

Roman led him out of the studio, wishing him well and telling him he looked forward to seeing him again. Virgil nodded and took one last glance at the man's back before exiting the studio. He had a brief conversation with the woman at the front desk and then stepped outside. He looked down at the business card once more.

"I guess I've met my soulmate."