Chapter summary: Patton’s Angel shows herself at last (fem!moceit, pat just doesn’t quite know it yet)
A/N: DUUUNNNN dundundundun DUUUUNNNN
Bouquet of yellow roses in hand and and wearing his best red waistcoat, Vicompte Roman de Chagny practically skipped towards his childhood friend’s dressing room. Having watched the show again, he found his friend’s performance just as enchanting as the first time.
“Patton, once again you were excellent!” he called after knocking on her door. “I swear you have improved since I saw you last week, you seemed so much more sure of yourself, you are really growing suited to this role! Get your coat and let’s go to dinner to celebrate, wherever you want to go!” he said, with all the warmth, the boisterousness but unmistakable kindness, she remembered from when they were young.
“Forgive me for not having had the chance to congratulate you sooner, and I’m sorry that Remus couldn’t be here. Patton, are you in there?”
Her breath hitched as she hesitated to reply. There was no one she loved more in this world than Roman, but the last thing she wanted to do at the present was go out to dinner. In fact, she thought she wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Perhaps she could ask him to return the next time she had a day off… whenever that may be, then immediately shut down the idea, chastising herself for even thinking it. If Roman had come to hear her sing again, and was offering to take her to dinner while he was so busy, then she should be grateful.
She supposed if she was going to leave she should probably find her spectacles. Which, paradoxically, would prove difficult without her spectacles…
Though she put on a brave face for work, having familiarised herself with every inch of the theatre and the stage where she performed each night, Patton’s eyesight really was incredibly poor. Her father had ensured she has a good pair of spectacles, she had enough inheritance money to replace them when it was necessary, but even as a dancer she had never been allowed to wear them to perform. In the pre-stage rush that evening she’d misplaced them. As she flitted about her dressing room in panic, walking into furniture, clumsily running her hands over the surfaces, hoping to feel the familiar cold metal frames, her Angel spoke again.
“Patton, mon ange, I think you’ll find what you’re looking for is to your left …”
She briefly cast her head in that direction, catching sight of the blurred outline of a figure, a reflection in dark clothing that was distinctly not her own.
She did a double take, her head snapping back to the mirror to confirm what she thought she’d just seen. A soft laugh, not unkind. She knew her Angel well enough to understand that she was not laughing out of amusement at Patton’s shock. The gentle tone reassured her that she was safe.
“Ma chérie, don’t be afraid. But come closer and look at me in your mirror.”
Frozen in place, unable to tear her eyes from the mirror. Could her Angel now control her movements as well as speaking in her head? Patton inched closer, unsure whether it was of her own free will or some supernatural force guiding her towards the spectre, the draw of the unknown, the temptation of the almost-familiar.
She could nearly reach out and touch the glass, having completely given in to the pull, now close enough to discern that the figure was much taller than she, dressed in a long dark cloak. Patton noticed the pallor of the face, an almost unnatural shade of white, and was drawn to the gloved hand because it was… pointing somewhere?
“What?” she asked, whispered so Roman would not hear. But her Angel, if that was really who was in the mirror, gave no reply.
She supposed the only thing to do was to go where she was being ushered, the sparsely-populated bookshelf in the corner. Evidently Signora Virgil Giudicelli hadn’t been a big reader, and given that Patton’s residence here was only temporary she had been reluctant to fill it with her own books. She wondered why the figure had led her over here when in the corner of her eye she caught a glint that was unmistakably metal. And she suddenly remembered leaving her spectacles here, hours before, putting them out of the way after she kept accidentally knocking them on the floor.
Almost exclaiming her thanks before she stopped herself with a hand to her mouth, remembering Roman, she darted back to the mirror to show her gratitude with a relieved smile. And at that moment Patton finally clearly saw the visage of her Angel.
Or… half of it, for she wore a white theatrical mask covering almost the entire left side of her face. Her left eye still clearly visible though, a pale green to contrast the hazelnut brown of the eye on her unmasked side. Unfrightened, more curious than anything about why her Angel felt the need to hide her face when she was so little seen by people, Patton’s dark eyes held the mismatched gaze of her mentor. Still smiling, wanting to return the favour of reassuring her, silently coaxing her to speak again.
But she merely raised the hand that had been pointing at the bookshelf, as she reached towards Patton it passed through the glass, crossing from whatever realm her Angel was in, for Patton had considered this a lot and had often thought that she must be otherworldly, hence why she could never be seen, but now she was in Patton’s world. Or her right hand was.
Would Patton be able to touch it? Or would her hand pass straight through her Angel’s ghostly form, like she had so often read in stories. Perhaps a more sensible person would have thought of the thousands of reasons not to take this mysterious figure’s hand. Not Patton, though, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to deplore it, for other thoughts came into her head faster. She was dying to test if she actually could. Determine if her Angel was really real, if Emile had been wrong to talk to her so. And, if she did exist, this was the chance to finally know her tutor better. Or even at all. An opportunity to properly thank her could not be wasted, after everything Patton’s Angel had done for her, every kind word, every gentle critique, every hour spent in the secret room under the theatre, singing back and forth to one another.
Having moved tentatively at first, Patton closed the last of the distance between her hand and her Angel’s with determination. The shock of how cold she was sent a shiver through Patton, thought it was incredibly warm in the theatre. Though unnaturally cold, there was unmistakable solidity in her grip. She was real.
Her hold was firm, but not so firm that Patton could not easily let go, though that was the last thing she wanted to do. She took a slight step backwards, coaxing her Angel out of the mirror. An arm surfaced, then another as Patton reached out to hold her other hand, willing her to overcome her fear and take the final step that would bring them together at last, a sort of leap of faith. Her head was the last thing to cross over, as soon as she was tête à tête with Patton she smiled down at her, soft and subtle. The curly head of her protégée did not even reach her shoulder level. Patton’s smile almost reached her eyes as she finally looked upon the person who had taught her to sing, who had given her everything.
Her hair was a glossy, chestnut brown, pulled back in a very unfeminine style. Patton concluded that she must be wearing a gentleman’s attire as it was all incredibly loose-fitting on her, especially the long, black cloak which almost reached the ground. Her shirt billowed around her and she wore a waistcoat but no tie, or perhaps a small cravat was hidden under her capelet, which completely drowned her shoulders. Patton suddenly became aware of how she had been staring, taking in every aspect of the person she had spent so long with, but never actually set eyes on.
After a few seconds she stopped herself, realising how rude she must seem, how uncomfortable she must be making her mentor, she settled her darting gaze back to meet her eyes, still smiling, signifying that her staring had not caused offence. For the past week she had forced herself to become accustomed to expressions of adoration from people barely known to her, but no one had ever, ever looked at Patton like that before. The unbearable warmth of the theatre always reached its peak right after the show as the audience filed out - that must be why her face suddenly flushed.
Patton finally broke their eye contact, struggling to think of something to say, wondering why her Angel hadn’t spoken yet - she always knew just the right words. And there was no need for her to be reduced to a voice in her head anymore, they could finally talk as Patton always dreamed.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Patton managed to whisper, slowly swinging both their arms to fill the silence that followed. But in the way of response, her mentor simply let go of one of her hands, keeping that just-firm-enough grip on the other to lead her towards an old rug in the corner of the room that Patton didn’t dare touch. Her Angel carelessly cast aside this antique, disturbing a very large quantity of dust, and though the rug had been flung away from them, some still settled on the pristine white costume Patton was wearing. She accidentally inhaled some and fought the urge to cough. Because that would be rude. And would ruin her singing voice for the two shows she had to perform tomorrow.
She’d been so distracted by this that it took her several seconds to notice what was hidden under the rug - a wooden trapdoor that had been there goodness knows how long. Although Patton imagined the long line of lead sopranos who had used this dressing room before her, and could hardly blame them for wanting to escape this place. Her companion edged the door open slowly, but not slow enough to prevent the old wood from creaking.
“Patton, are you alright in there?”
Her mentor jumped, turning to Patton with panicked eyes. She’d completely forgotten about Roman. Suffice to say she felt completely silly for wondering why her Angel was not speaking. A question in her mismatched eyes - how to proceed, was it too dangerous? Patton responded with a finger to her lips and a determined nod down at the trapdoor. Past the point of no return now, she simply had to see where it led.
The other woman continued opening the door, impossibly slower than before. Patton was greeted with complete darkness, unable to see what lay below. Once this was accomplished, with complete confidence her mentor jumped down, and landed so her head and shoulders were just poking out, and she was an unusually tall lady. At the slightest showing of hesitation from Patton, her Angel opened her arms, an invitation.
“Ma Chérie, don’t be afraid.”
The exact same tone as earlier, when she had appeared in the mirror. But her lips didn’t move. Had she spoken again in Patton’s head? Or had she imagined it? Whatever was true, she was already lifting Patton down the trapdoor, not letting go of her left hand once she was on solid ground. She continued leading her through the darkened corridor, quickly evolving into a maze of passages dimly lit by the lantern she was holding in the other hand, which Patton swore she did not have when they were in the dressing room.
Patton often grew restless and wandered the theatre, but not even she had seen any of this before. She knew she should’ve realised a lot sooner that they were not in the Opéra Populaire anymore, though she could not pinpoint the exact moment when they left. For years she had worked, practised, eaten, slept, lived here and hardly ever got the opportunity to leave, a fact her Angel knew well. Perhaps she was leading them to some place where the air was cool, far from the stifling pressures of the theatre, where they’d be able to see the sky. She cursed herself for revelling in the liberation.
Their pace quickened, moving so fast her Angel’s cape billowed out behind her. At some point the ground beneath had changed from soft, rotting wood to squelching mud.
Her almost-too-white costume was getting ruined, no matter how carefully she tried to tread. When questioned about how it would happened she would inevitably have to fabricate some sort of story, maybe now the seamstress would make her something to wear which made her look a little less like a wedding cake, she thought before she could stop herself.
‘Who are you?’ she questioned, her heart rate quickening.
‘Finally myself,’ some deep part of her retorted.
Even though she was sure they were now far from anywhere anyone could hear them, all the time her Angel did not speak a word. Not even when they came to a vast lake which seemed to completely block their path, but apparently she had a solution for that too. A little way along the edge of the water she had a small rowing boat, inviting Patton on board.
The lake was unbelievably clear. Though the sewage-filled river Seine, the only other body of water she had ever really seen, truly set a poor standard. Leaning over the edge of the boat, as far as she dared, she could see her reflection perfectly. And she truly saw herself for the first time in several days. She had glanced in the dressing room mirror before every show to check her makeup and hair were perfect, though it was incredibly windswept now, but that was hardly shocking. But the extent of the run-down, tired, hollow look in her eyes was not something she had expected, though she perhaps should have. In growing used to seeing herself in grand costumes, she had slowly stopped recognising herself.
She tore her eyes from her own reflection, not liking the thoughts it stirred up, and gazed up at her Angel instead. The boat afforded a different view of her, Patton sat behind her while she stood, strong arms rowing them to goodness knows where. Perhaps when they finally arrived they would sing together and talk all night and, if she asked nicely, once they had become properly acquainted, maybe she would let Patton remove her mask, finally see her Angel’s face. Patton was determined that there was nothing that could be hidden under there that could make her dislike someone who had been so kind to her. Though there was something she had remembered while on this long journey. Something she had tried to put off thinking about for as long as possible, but it kept clawing its way back into her mind.
She recalled being told of such a mask before, knew exactly where she’d heard it - the girls’ dormitory, late one night after rehearsal. All the young dancers awake past their bedtime, gathered around Signora Virgil Giudicelli, who was telling scary stories. One in particular made them squeal and hide behind their bedsheets - the legend of the Phantom of the Opera. And she could not deny that her Angel matched the exact description of those who claimed to have seen him.
When the voice first spoke in her head, all those years ago, she had briefly thought it could be the Phantom who it belonged to - she hadn’t heard it until she came here after all. But she had quickly discounted it. Virgil, and the owners (who had been here far longer than her) referred to a man. But the voice Patton had been hearing all these years was distinctly that of a lady. Inside her mind, Patton could not reconcile the Phantom and her Angel as one and the same. Nothing made sense, and just as she was giving up hope of making it make sense, she felt a sudden jolt as the boat hit land. They’d arrived.
It was not exactly the destination Patton had hoped for.
———
“Pat? Patton?” He was about to pound his fist against the door before he held himself back.
“That scary ballet lady did say she might have fallen asleep in there,” he muttered to himself. “Suppose I’ll come back tomorrow.”
Roman’s footsteps faded away, the candle in the empty dressing room having been extinguished by a sudden, supernatural rush of cold air.
For @dukexietyweek Day 7: Soulmate (Ao3) (login required)
Word Count:2797
Rating: T
Characters: Remus, fem Patton, fem Janus, Virgil
Warnings: mtf Virgil, genderbend, background moceit, sex mention, alcohol
In a world where you have one of your soulmate's eyes and can see what they're seeing if you cover your borrowed eye, it should be easy to find your soulmate. Unless you can't see anything when you try and get a look. Remus, a movie star, is unfortunate that he can't see anything. He's ready to give up hope until a chance meeting at his oldest friend's drag show.
---
Sometimes it was hard to look for a soulmate even though they had one of your eyes. If they covered the borrowed eye they could see what you were looking at. For Remus, it was a lot harder to tell.
He was happy to be finished with his latest movie and wanted to either sleep or get smashed. At least this one wasn't some trashy romcom where he'd have to play straight. It was a trashy macabre romcom where he had to play bi, Cthulhu in Love , and he was the lead! He was just glad that he didn't have to sit in makeup for hours to get his face tentacles done that day and instead just put on a fake beard to match his mustache. And he had the next day off!
Remus carefully removed the color contact from his right eye and closed his eyes. All he could see was darkness but it was nice, sometimes the light was too much. He sighed, not bothering to just cover his right eye to catch a glimpse of his soulmate's world. He never saw anything. Sometimes he wondered if he even had a soulmate.
He wouldn't be surprised if he didn't, he was aro and he didn't really want to enter some one-sided romance if he could help it. But it would be nice to at least see who got stuck with him. He knew he was a lot to handle.
"Hey, Remus?" someone called to him from the other side of the door. Remus got up with a grunt and opened it to reveal his costar, Pat, and she looked worn out.
"What's up Patty-cake?" he asked and leaned against the door frame.
"Sorry if I'm bothering you, I just thought you might want to get some dinner and see Janice's performance tonight," Pat said and played with her hoodie strings. Remus couldn't really say no, he wanted to see his childhood bestie's drag performance even if she spent the rest of the night with her soulmate.
"Give me five minutes to get dressed and then we can party!" he grinned, "If you want to watch me strip you can come in!" Pat shook her head and smiled sweetly.
"I'm spoken for. I'll be here when you're ready!"
"One of us has to be," Remus shrugged.
"You have a soulmate, little mister, and I will fight you if you say you don't!"
"You can't win on an empty stomach!" Remus jeered, "And Jan would get off seeing you beat me up!"
"Remus," she scowled and adjusted her glasses.
"I'll be right out!"
.
Remus was incognito, hiding his skunky bangs with a beanie and his body in a hoodie and baggy pants. Pat wasn't as hidden as they entered the bar, reeking of McDonald's. It wasn't terribly crowded, but still full and dimly lit. Remus could see the low stage and the lights. It would be a good show.
"If you save me a seat, I'll get the drinks," Remus suggested.
"Okay, can you get me a Hemingway Champagne, please?" she said brightly. Remus ruffled her hair and laughed before sauntering to the bar.
Remus moved like he was the hottest thing in the world and leaned against the bar with a winning smile. The bartender got one look at him in his bum attire and sighed. She was pretty, with long purple hair that covered her right eye and half of her glasses. She had deathly pale skin that looked more pallid paired with her black hoodie.
"Hey there gorgeous!" Remus cooed and motioned her over. She moved towards him reluctantly and crossed her arms.
"I thought I told you I'm not doing it. I'm not falling for it."
"Falling for what?"
"Don't play dumb, Roman. A fake mustache and a pale blue color contact are not going to convince me that you're Remus."
"So you know the boring theater twin!" Remus laughed, "I'm sorry for you, girl!" The bartender's visible eye went wide and she shook her head.
"I'm not going to kill him, I'm not going to kill him," she sighed as her cheeks turned pink.
"That's my job! And here I thought Roman didn't have hot friends!"
"Are you gonna order or waste my time?" she huffed.
"Can I get a Death in the Afternoon and Alligator Sperm? And if you have to spit in one, aim for the gator! Pattycake doesn't deserve my hate," Remus said brightly before he noticed her eye. It was the same brown-green hazel as his.
"Anything else or do you need to stay sober for your next shoot?"
"That's all for now. How did you know I'm shooting a new movie?"
"Jan. She always gushes about her soulmate being a movie star and working with you all the time. I haven't told anyone if you're trying to keep an industry secret or something," she shrugged, not exactly telling the whole truth, but Remus couldn't be sure.
"It's not really a secret, just not well known. I'm sure it's all over my fan pages! I can't hide from them, not that I want to—they're why I have what I do."
"It's not because you have talent or anything," she scoffed and rolled her eyes. Remus snickered and bobbed his head back and forth.
"Talent? Half the time I don't even speak in my fun movies! It's my hot bod and creepy mannerisms that sell those! I mean it was the fans that petitioned for me to play the creature in Frankenstein. I wasn't considered since I'm not a tall brooding goth prince, but it's my best performance, and I have the fans to thank for that."
"You were better in Cuttle as a tentacle monster. Even if the fanart got weird. I needed to bleach my eyes."
"Is that why you cover your soul eye?"
"I keep one eye covered because it's light sensitive, because of genetics," she said flatly and got to work on the drinks, avoiding eye contact.
"Do you put eyeshadow and liner on both sides?" Remus asked. She moved her bangs to reveal that she had an eye patch on her glasses.
"There's no point. Anything else or are you going to give your friend her drink?"
"Oh Pat! Right! We're both here for Janice, or should I say, Dante Infernal! You got me there! Can I get your name before I go? Hot bartender isn't a good name."
"Violetta, but you can call me Vi," she said shyly and slid him both drinks. Remus beamed and took them.
"Thanks! I like that name! Maybe I'll see you around!" he said and trotted off to find Pat.
Of course, when he found her, she was with Janice in a more secluded booth, giggling and flirting with the drag king. It was so easy for Dante Infernal to charm anyone with his wry smirk and gentlemanly wiles. It was cute but Remus was not interested in third wheeling just yet. He was too sober to deal with any romance.
"Should I get you a second straw to share?" he teased and set her drink on the table. Pat giggled and beamed at him.
"Thank you so much Ree!"
"Hello Remus, I'm surprised you haven't snapped anyone up yet," Janice teased. Remus shrugged and took a swig of his curdling drink.
"I just got here, give me some time!" he laughed, "And maybe I want to be a good friend first!" Janice chuckled as he downed the rest of his drink.
"So you're going to give me a few dollars and sulk at the bar this time?" she hummed knowingly as Pat sipped her drink.
"Maybe," he pouted, "As long as the hot bartender doesn't get tired of me!"
"Violetta? Oh, darling, if she figures out you're you, you might get tired of her . She's a huge fan of your horror movies, and your butt."
"Really? I mean my ass is perfect but she didn't seem interested in it! She's got the big tiddy goth girlfriend vibe so it checks out that she'd like those movies!"
"She certainly does, even before her top surgery she was gifted," Janice said bitterly.
"Your tiny titties are cute!" Pat cooed and hugged her. Jan nuzzled her hair and kissed her cheek. Remus blinked and stared at them both. He was still too sober for this.
"I'm gonna go back and get another drink."
"Remus, don't drink too much, okay?" Pat pouted. Remus flicked his wrist at her and pulled a few bills from his pocket.
"Don't have too much rockin sex, okay?" he retorted and handed the money to Jan. She knew that meant he wouldn't be close by when she performed. She also knew that Pat was flustered, so she waved Remus off to do whatever he was planning.
Remus waved impishly and went back to the bar, this time hopping on a stool and setting his empty glass down. Vi glanced at him and sighed.
"Finished already?"
"Yeah, can I get another one?" he asked and wiggled his eyebrows as she took the glass.
"Not for a while. I'm not letting you get drunk, pretty boy. Your romcom fans will eat you alive."
"I'd rather my horror fans did. Literally!" he jeered, "You know you want to!"
"Do I?" she asked and set the glass on a tray to go through the wash.
"Well you've got Jennifer's body, so why not enjoy a snack?"
"What?" she snorted and turned around.
"Is your name Megan because damn you're foxy!" Remus purred with a goofy grin.
"Shouldn't you save that for your soulmate?" she said with a snicker. Remus wanted to hear her laugh more.
"I don't think I have one, I'm aro and I don't see anything when I do the eye thing," he said with a shrug, "I don't mind. If I had one, they'd have to deal with the paparazzi, my schedule, and me!"
"Being aro doesn't mean you don't have a soulmate, I can tell you that much. Blind people exist. And maybe don't treat yourself like a problem. It doesn't help anyone," Vi replied and leaned on the bar across from him.
"I'm a lot to handle, but I'm a lot of sexy fun too," Remus giggled, "So you're aro spec, huh? And you have a soulmate?"
"Yeah, but the universe hates me so I don't look anymore. They're only interested in men. But you're not here to listen to my problems."
"I don't mind, I'm curious—what idiot wouldn't want a babe like you?" he said and held his chin in his hands.
"Some idiot I knew of in school who's in the film industry now. Roman thinks you might know them, I'm pretty sure you do."
"Can I see your other eye? It could help me figure out who they could be. And I kinda just want to see both eyes."
"I'm gonna regret this," Vi sighed and moved her bangs. She lowered her glasses and bit her lip, trying not to squeeze her eyes shut in the dim light.
Remus gasped when he saw that familiar pale blue iris staring at him. He slapped his hand over his right eye and saw a blurry version of himself gawking and covering his eye. His hand fell to his side and he shook with so much excitement he had no idea how to release it.
"Remus?" Vi asked hesitantly and readjusted her glasses. She was regretting that choice.
She yelped when he grabbed her face and kissed her like he would die without her lips.
"Holy shit!" Vi gasped and lurched back. Her lips were tingling and she was staring at Remus in shock.
"I know I should've asked first," he said softly, "I wasn't thinking."
"But you—"
"Love is love, no matter how romantic or platonic or alterous. And I could see myself falling headfirst in a vat of battery acid for you, no romance required."
"You don't have to do that," she said with a shy laugh. Remus beamed, proud that he could bring that sound out of her.
"So we went to school together, and you were too shy to say anything to me, huh?"
"You were—are so confident and bold, and you had friends, it was intimidating, and I was really just a nobody with self esteem issues and I avoided you as much as I could. The easiest way to do that was spending time with Roman."
"Hmm, well it would be really funny if you were the hot emo who always had headphones and a spiderweb backpack! I had such a mesh it was embarrassing!"
"Oh god," Vi groaned and went bright red, "I still have that backpack."
"Okay now I definitely need your number and I need to take you on a date!" Remus laughed, "I can be covert if you like!"
"Please? I don't need the paparazzi tearing into me because I'm an edgy trans woman."
"The only one tearing into you is gonna be me!" Remus jeered. Vi shook her head and readjusted herself.
"Go watch the show, my shift is over in five so I'll find you, before Jan can rub it in," Vi said, "And don't think you're gonna be the one tearing into anyone."
"I'm looking forward to proving Pat right! And getting to know you!" Remus grinned and waved impishly before trotting off to join his co-star.
Unfortunately for Remus, he missed Janice's performance, but he was able to take his seat by the lovers without drawing attention to himself.
"There you are, Remus," Jan hummed and ran her fingers through Pat's hair, "finally tired of your biggest fan?"
"Nope! I just wanted to check in on you and tell you that I owe Pattycake a puppy!"
"You found your soulmate!" Pat gasped and sat up. Remus nodded excitedly with a bright grin. Pat squeaked and hugged him, far too excited to contain herself.
"Did you meet them or did you finally see something?" Pat squealed, "Do you know what they look like? Are they handsome?"
"Darling, let him breathe," Janus hummed, "One question at a time."
"I finally got to see and I met my soulmate," Remus giggled and shimmied excitedly. Pat was so happy, hanging off his every word. Jan was more interested in the figure looming towards them.
"And she is the most beautiful woman with the most sultry voice and she could burn me alive with her stare!" Remus gushed, and swooned, leaning into the seat, "And I want her to step on me."
"That's no way to describe someone to your witnesses," Vi said and sat next to Remus. Remus leaned against her and beamed.
"Well, this is an unexpected twist," Jan hummed with a smirk. Vi flipped her off and flipped her hair over her shoulder.
"Sounds like you expected it," Remus giggled and wrapped his arm around Vi. She leaned against him and placed her hand on his thigh.
"I did, but I didn't expect you to be so, adoring," Jan hummed. Remus shrugged.
"It's not romantic adoration, it's all about power, beauty, the macabre, personal connection, and lust!"
"Lust?" Pat squeaked and inched closer to Jan.
"I'm a horny little bastard!" Remus giggled, "And it takes a lot to tame me!"
"I doubt it," Vi jeered.
"You would be the first to say that!" Remus jeered.
"Wait until your brother hears!" Pat gasped, looking for any reason to change the topic.
"He's known since high school. He'll be insufferable," Vi sighed, "More insufferable than Remus' rabid fans who hate his soulmate because he's not theirs and he won't ever see them like that."
"They what?" Remus gasped.
"They're usually kids. They get over it. Online I actually like to claim that yes, your soulmate is a raging bitch who would whip you and make you beg for the tiniest scrap of love," Vi said with a tiny smirk.
"You shouldn't be so mean to yourself, and you shouldn't lie just to belittle yourself either," Pat pouted. Vi shrugged and glanced at Remus. He was fighting back a fit of giggles.
"I'm not lying," she said softly. Remus' jaw dropped before a gleeful giggle escaped him.
"You really are my soulmate! Please tell me you have more than just whips and begging in mind!" he squealed and kissed her cheek, pulling her closer.
"I'll tell you more about it when we go on a real date."
"There's a nice diner that Jan and I go to, it's quaint and it doesn't have a pretty face, and it's open 24/7," Pat suggested.
"Are you free tonight?" Remus asked.
"No. I'm supposed to be going to a diner with my soulmate," Vi teased. Remus laughed brightly. Yeah, he was more than happy with his soulmate.
