Simon let out an exasperated sigh as he yanked his sleeves down, hiding the bold, black, and permanent markings on his skin. He tucked his hands in his hoodie pockets and ducked his head down, trying so desperately to avoid being seen.

Things were weird where Simon Snow was from. For starters, every single individual is born with two tattoos on their wrists. Tiny and unique symbols, one on the inside of each wrist. The one on your left is similar to your worst enemy's, meanwhile the one on your right is identical to your soulmate's.

However, both of Simon's were the exact same.

He didn't know what to think of it, really. It was something he thought about at least once every single day. How can you be in love with someone if that's also the same person who hates you the most? None of it quite made sense and he was always worried that it was a mistake. It would be his luck to be the only person born with a mistake imbedded in his skin. Therefore, he hid them from the world. No one would ever see his tattoos, and that was just the way he wanted it.

Blue eyes looking up, he found himself squinting against the sunlight and pushing his blonde curls out of his face. This had been the location he promised to meet Penny, at least he thought this was the right place. Penny had been speaking so quickly that Simon could've misheard her entirely. Nevertheless, he was laying back in the stands of Watford's football field. Currently, the field wasn't occupied, and Simon was thankful for this fact. And that was because of one person on the school football team: Baz Grimm-Pitch.

Simon and Baz had a well-known rivalry throughout their time at Watford. The two of them expressed their disliking for one another frequently and preferred to keep to themselves. When they were together, however, it was like they had to start something. One of them would constantly mutter something under their breath about the other or resort to physical violence just to get a rise out of the other. And it almost always worked.

But there was one small issue with this unstable and pessimistic relationship that the two shared. And that was the fact that they were dorm-mates. And they would remain dorm-mates until they both finished their eight years at Watford; or until one finally killed the other. But that isn't even all.

Unknown to Simon Snow, Baz had alternative feelings for this boy. And they were the exact opposite of the emotions he displayed for Simon to see. Baz found himself frequently curious what Simon Snow's tattoos looked like, wanting to know if they were anything like his own. Because Baz Grimm-Pitch's small wrist tattoos were identical. He was destined to think of his soulmate at his mortal enemy. Baz hid his tattoos as well, but he would cover them up with a pale foundation that his Aunt Fiona would purchase for him.

Simon mindlessly messed with the silver cross necklace that hung around his neck, laying back on the metal bleachers and keeping his eyes sealed shut. The necklace had been a permanent part of the boy's wardrobe since discovering that Baz was a vampire.

Penny never showed up, so maybe Simon had misheard her. After fifteen minutes of basking in the sun on the bleachers, Simon got the feeling he was being watched. He wasn't too certain how to describe it; it was like when your skin crawled, or as if a cold chill washed over your body, or perhaps there was something gnawing at your stomach, alerting you something was amiss. Simon tilted his head and was surprised to discover that Baz was standing at the bottom of the bleachers, staring at him with a strong emotion he'd never seen from his nemesis before: adoration.

"What?" Simon demanded as Baz wiped the emotion from his face, changing from an awestruck gaze to an annoyed glower.

"What are you doing at my field?" Baz demanded as Simon groaned, pushing himself up and glaring at the boy who had been speaking with him.

Baz's eyes were filled to the brim with anger, but Simon truly didn't know what to make of the expression Baz wore only a few moments earlier. Why would Baz look at Simon that way? To say it made absolutely no sense seemed like quite the understatement.

"Well, I was supposed to be meeting Penny here," Simon responded, arching an eyebrow at Baz, who was attired in black sweatpants and a dark grey t-shirt. His ebony hair had been thrown up into a haphazard messy bun, strands tumbling out already.

"Ah, it's all so clear now," Baz sarcastically remarked, rolling his eyes before messing with the black and white ball that he was holding in his arms.

"Piss off," Simon snarled, laying back down and deciding that he no longer wanted to bicker with his rival. And, if Penny wasn't showing up, then perhaps Simon should just take a nap. Simon flung an arm over his eyes, inhaling the scent of the autumn atmosphere.

It was the beginning of Simon and Baz's sixth year at Watford; both boys already stressed with the classes that they were taking, yet still finding time to partake in activities they enjoyed. Baz consumed his mind with football practices and family endeavors while Simon placed all of his attention on trying to blame everything wrong with the world on Baz. Simon Snow was quite a few things, but subtle and sneaky were not some of them. Baz had definitely noticed Simon taking an interest in his lifestyle, but pretended not to notice; Baz definitely didn't want to think too hard about why Simon Snow would take a sudden interest in his life.

"Why should I? It's not like you're sneaky, Snow. Constantly watching me and following me around. I'm not a bloody moron," Baz seethed, resulting in Simon pushing himself up again, gritting his teeth as he glared at his rival. His eyes were ice cold and void of any warm emotions; Baz's shared an identical feeling.

"Then what are you up to?! Clearly it's not nothing! You stare at me all the time and it's only a certain amount of time before you finally just attack me!" Simon retorted, rising to his feet in anger. But Baz just blinked back at the boy.

So, perhaps Simon Snow wasn't as dense and oblivious as Baz had once believed. Every fiber of Baz's being was jittering with anxiety, but he wasn't going to allow that to show. Instead, he narrowed his eyes down on the boy standing up in the stands. Baz dropped the ball that he had been holding, walking up the steps to glare at his nemesis.

"You think I'm up to something?" Baz questioned as Simon rolled his eyes, expressing that he didn't think this was a logical question.

"Of course you are. You're always up to something. Either you have some strange secret up your sleeve or you're off planning something. It's always one of the two," Simon muttered, icy eyes locked onto Baz's gaze. He wasn't going to shy away, knowing that would mean admitting defeat.

"Is that what you think?" Baz asked, but he knew that Simon wasn't wrong. After all, Baz did have quite a few secrets that he kept hidden from his dorm-mate, most of which involved his true feelings for the other boy.

"Obviously..." Simon grumbled, turning his head and watching as a few of the other football players began emerging on the field, preparing to warm up for their practice. Baz was watching his teammates, as well, knowing that meant he had to leave soon.

"Isn't that interesting..." Baz mumbled more to himself than to Simon. Simon took note in the shift of tone, watching as some dark locks of Baz's hair fell out of his bun; Simon wasn't certain as to why, but he had to restrain himself from pushing those hairs back behind the other boy's ear.

"Baz! C'mon!" One of the players yelled from the center of the field, causing Baz to shift his attention from the blonde boy standing before him over towards his teammates. He nodded, shifting and intending to attend his practice.

Simon wasn't sure why he did it, but he did. His movement was swift and unexpected by both parties, catching both of them off guard. But Simon Snow was gripping onto Baz Grimm-Pitch's right wrist. The two boys froze up almost immediately, not expecting the strange static-like feeling that blossomed from where their skin made contact. Baz immediately shifted his attention from Simon's hand up to the other boy's face; meanwhile Simon stared at Baz's wrist, foundation being wiped away by his firm hold.

A sharp inhale from Simon Snow was enough to make Baz arch an eyebrow in a curious manner. Baz had to look back down, feeling his heart falter as he stared at the small black marking that Simon had uncovered. Baz was quick to yank his hand away from Simon, wrapping his other hand around the symbol in a shielding manner. Simon had changed the focus of his attention from Baz's wrist to the boy's face, bewilderment etched into the blonde's expression.

"What? Were you born without them or something?" Baz seethed, not liking Simon staring at him with such vulnerable eyes; it made him comfortable, and he couldn't be that way around Simon Snow. That would only cause problems.

Simon shook his head, opening his mouth, but then hesitantly closing it again. Words were caught in his throat as if he was incapable of speaking his thoughts. Baz had never seen Simon Snow in such a state. There was so much confusion and understanding all being shown at once. It made no sense to Baz. Meanwhile everything began making sense to Simon.

They matched. Simon immediately knew the marking that he was looking at on Baz's wrist; after all, it was the same marking that was on both of his own wrists. But that didn't make any sense in Simon's mind. Baz Grimm-Pitch was his soulmate? That seemed so far fetched that he wasn't even entirely sure what to make of it. He wasn't even sure what he should say to the other boy, who clearly wanted him to say something.

"Snow?" Baz demanded, arching another one of his sharp and dark eyebrows.

"I need to go find Penny..." Simon muttered, his mouth going dry as he kept his eyes on his feet. Baz was stunned into silence by Simon's willingness to walk away from their discussion; this wasn't typically something that Simon would do.

Instead, Baz just nodded, dashing back down the bleachers and heading out onto the field, attending his practice. Simon stood in place for a few silent moments, attempting to work through some of his troubled thoughts. But nothing seemed to make any of this easier to deal with. Simon was so sure that his markings had been a mistake, but this provided clarity to his predicament. Baz. Baz was the answer to the large question Simon had: why were his markings the same? Baz. Baz fucking Grimm-Pitch.

Simon should be mad or upset, but instead he felt relief. His tattoos weren't a mistake. It was suddenly as if he was able to breathe again, knowing that he would be able to find his soulmate. But Baz? Did it have to be Baz? Sure, Baz was absolutely insufferable, but Simon couldn't deny the fact that Baz was extremely attractive. Sharp and dark features with pale skin, accompanied by his long black hair and grey eyes. Simon would never tell anyone, but he had noticed that Baz's eyes weren't completely grey; there were vibrant blue flecks spread throughout the irises of the other boy's eyes.

Leaving the field was rather disorienting, reminding Simon that all of his problems weren't solved just quite yet. Because Baz didn't know. How would Baz react to that news? What would he think? After all, Baz surely hated Simon with every cell in his body. Would Baz react violently with outrage? Or would he accept it? Simon couldn't even guess.

When Simon made it to the courtyard of Watford, he found Penny and Agatha sitting on the stone ledge that surrounded the water fountain. They spotted him almost instantly, perking up at his appearance. Meanwhile Simon was still consumed in his thoughts, unsure as to what he should do. Should he tell Baz? Or wait until Baz found out for himself?

"Simon! There you are!" Penny yelled, pulling Simon out of his thoughts and placing his attention on the two girls who were smiling at him. The boy nodded, jogging over towards the two of them and forcing a smile onto his lips.

"Uh oh. You're doing your fake smile. What happened?" Penny asked as Simon dropped the faux expression and exhaled a deep sigh through his nose.

"You remember my problem, right?" Simon asked, gesturing down to his wrists. Both girls caught on to his meaning almost immediately, nodding in understanding. He inhaled a ragged breath, wanting to explain himself clearly.

"It's not a mistake... And I know who has at least one of the matches," Simon muttered as both girls looked at him with wide and stunned eyes. Agatha gestured for Simon to sit down, both of them wanting to hear the whole story.

"Who?" Penny demanded, wanting to be excited, but she couldn't. Simon wasn't excited. If anything, he seemed dreadful. She wasn't going to celebrate if it was something he felt miserable about.

"Baz..." Simon muttered as both girls stared at him with wide eyes, a gasp escaping Penny's lips. Meanwhile Agatha's jaw dangled wide open. They wanted to accuse him of lying to them, but they could tell he was being truthful; Simon Snow never really was a good liar.

"If he's one, then doesn't that mean—"

"That he's both? I think so. But I only saw one of his..." Simon explained as Penny and Agatha looked between one another, attempting to think of something to say in order to make their friend feel better.

"Are you sure they were the same? Maybe they're a slight bit different," Agatha guessed, wanting to come up with some reasoning for this mess. But Simon exhaled a sigh, looking over at her with a certain expression.

"They match exactly. Do you know how long I've spent staring at those markings? Too long. I know exactly what they look like. They look like his," Simon explained, not leaving any room for the girls to object, therefore they didn't. The boy placed his head in his hands, displaying that he wasn't sure what to do with this newfound information.

"You have to tell him..." Agatha muttered, resting a comforting hand on Simon's shoulder. Penny's silence expressed that she agreed with Agatha's statement.

"Do I?" Simon muttered, dread built up in his tone.

"Yeah. He deserves to know. He might be feeling the same things that you did. He might be confused as to why his marks look the same. You'd want him to tell you if he found out," Penny explained, resulting in Simon nodding, because Penny was correct.

He was going to tell Baz. He had to. Otherwise he'd dearly regret it. And maybe Baz would lash out at him. Perhaps Baz would lose his mind with this information. But Baz still deserved to know that Simon had been born as his perfect match.

He would tell him tonight. He had to. He'd do it when Baz got back from practice for the night. And Simon wasn't going to back out of it. He was going to admit who he was to his soulmate.

• • •

Pacing was the only thing that kept Simon Snow sane as he waited for Baz to return from his football practice up in their room. Sure, he knew that he needed to have this discussion with Baz, but he was still allowed to be nervous about this. After all, this was going to be a life changing conversation.

The door being shoved open caused Simon to jump, Baz freezing in the doorway and staring at the blonde boy with concern. Simon wasn't typically all that jumpy, and Baz was well aware of that fact. Simon stared back at Baz, the pair blinking at one another for a long moment before Baz finally kicked the door shut. The taller boy dropped his bag full of dirty practice clothes on his bed, still wearily watching Simon.

"Can we talk?" Simon asked as Baz arched an eyebrow, glancing over at the boy who'd spoken for a brief moment before walking into the bathroom, beginning to put product into his soaked hair; he showered in the locker rooms after practice.

"We don't typically 'talk', Snow. But, sure, humor me," Baz replied, glancing back at Simon in the reflection of the mirror. Simon inhaled a shaky breath, holding both of his arms out.

Baz arched an eyebrow in confusion before setting down the hair product, turning and fixing his weary eyes on Simon. At first, he assumed that this was some sort of joke, but Simon's face didn't show any signs of amusement. Baz's heart began hammering in his chest, uncertain as to what was going on. He assumed the worst at first, his thoughts going to finding displays of self-harm beneath Simon's shirt sleeves. But then he understood. This was about the remark Baz had made earlier, about whether or not Simon had the two tattoos. Simon was mentally moving in a direction that Baz never expected him to move: towards him. Simon was placing trust in Baz.

Carefully, Baz approached the blonde boy, fixing him with a serious gaze. Simon stared right back at him, Baz forcing himself to look away from the shorter boy's magnificent blue eyes. The taller male grasped onto one of Simon's sleeves, being extremely careful as he peeled back the fabric. And, as soon as Baz looked at the mark that was located there, his whole body froze. Because this was absolutely impossible.

Slowly, Baz dragged his stare up to meet Simon's eyes; the blonde boy had been watching him carefully. Almost as if he was afraid of how Baz was going to react. Meanwhile Baz was worried about Simon. Because, internally, Baz couldn't even express how this made him feet. Everything about this just felt right, as if Baz knew that this was going to be the end result. But Baz knew that Simon wasn't a fan of him.

"Oh..." Baz muttered, his eyes flicking back to the mark on Simon's wrist. He proceeded to push up the boy's other sleeve, wanting to ensure that they were the same. Sure enough, the two symbols were identical.

Baz wiped the makeup off his wrists, displaying to the other boy that they matched perfectly. Suddenly, the two were searching for any discrepancies in the markings. But there weren't any. They were a match; souls formed in order to complete one another. Soulmates and enemies. And they were.

"Yeah... That was why I... Freaked out at the field..." Simon muttered, trying his best to explain himself. It wasn't much good, unfortunately. But Baz understood.

"This... Complicates things..." Baz muttered as a weak laugh escaped Simon, the warm sound causing all of Baz's insides to heat up, butterflies flapping throughout his internal organs. He always knew he had a weak spot for Simon Snow, but he didn't know that it was this bad.

"Yeah. Just a bit. I mean, are we still supposed to hate each other? Or what?" Simon asked as Baz tilted his head to meet Simon's eyes. The shorter boy was grinning, seeming to be feeling so much better now that he admitted everything to the taller male.

"Honestly, I'm not too sure," Baz replied, keeping his eyes trained on Simon. And Simon was looking back at him. And, as cliché as it may sound, Baz swore that time halted.