This is a cruel joke, Grian thinks as he squints at Scar’s backside. Scar’s completely oblivious even as Grian feels his pulse thrumming into tune with Scar’s. There’s an ache in him, itching and clawing at his heart, the tell-tale sign of a soulbond. It feels an extra limb, an odd jolt in his heart. Grian’s hungry. Scar’s hungry. Grian’s hurt. Scar’s hurt.
Grian knows. Scar doesn’t.
At first, Grian thinks it’s all a joke. But he watches Scar chase after allays and Jellie pandas and proudly proclaiming them as his soulmates and Grian’s heart sinks. Just a little bit.
Do you not care, Scar? Do you not care that we’re soulmates?
And Grian hates himself even more because it was him who weaved up this world. Him who designed this, crafted this from his visions, and the universe decides to give him and Scar another chance. Like the last two times wasn’t enough. The universe is nudging and pushing its creator into the same direction, time and time again— but for what? It all ends in tragedy anyway, rings of cacti and bloodied fists, so why bother? Why Scar, of all people, again?
So Grian sighs and picks up the dripstone. It’s his duty to look after Scar, it always has been. And Scar has to know. But Scar doesn’t care, doesn’t spare him a second glance, he cooes over his Jellies and then smiles at him, so oblivious yet so excited about his cats.
“Look directly at me,” Grian asks as he puts the dripstone on top of Scar. It falls down and hits Scar, and Grian winces at the sharp pain.
Scar doesn’t look at Grian. He’s gazing at his Jellies in adoration.
(They’re soulmates, and he doesn’t care, doesn’t care doesn’t care—)
“Scar!” Grian barks sharply, and he can’t even bring himself to be mad because that’s how Scar is. He’s falling into the same trap the universe set him up, he’s going to have to protect Scar again, and Scar’s disregarding himself as always, because that’s how they work, and—
Grian has one more dripstone. One final try.
And Scar’s green eyes meets Grian’s; curious, earnest, yet so oblivious.
The dripstone falls. It lands.
Matching blood splatters on their armour, a shared pain coursing through them. They’re mirrors of each other. Their eyes are locked. And Grian sees that Scar finally understands.
“Oh,” Scar says softly. “Oh.”
(The universe murmurs to itself in glee, pleased that it’s done its job again.)
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