Soulbound Ch 11: Two Halves, One Hole!

(Kaida)

My head was spinning—both literally and metaphorically. I had never felt so... floaty and flushed at the same time. It was like I had just downed an entire star's worth of wine and then tried to do calculus underwater. This was going too fast. Way too fast.

I've always been bad at explaining things. I talk in spirals, I get distracted by my own thoughts, and right now? Well, my body was still going through the early stages of the change. It wasn't as intense as that first wave, thank the stars, but everything still felt warm and tingly and... sensitive. And not just in the romantic way—I mean emotionally. Mentally. Spiritually.

But I had to focus. He needed answers.

"Okay," I said, clearing my throat mentally. "Let me start over."

"O-okay..." Scott said. His voice was still small, uncertain. It vibrated along my inner consciousness like music down a golden harp string. Made my skin shiver. He sounded so worried, and that—ugh—that broke my heart. He was adorable and confused and in a situation no one would be prepared for, and here I was, practically melting from just hearing him talk.

"First, my race. We're called the Aetherions," I said, keeping my tone gentle, like I was telling a bedtime story. "We're... well, we're big. Fundamentally bigger than any race you've probably ever encountered. We exist outside of your galactic barrier, out in the space between galaxies—where the light doesn't reach."

He didn't interrupt, just listened, so I kept going.

"Our forms are massive. So massive that staying within a galaxy, for long, causes... problems. Gravity warps, stars spin too fast, time gets fussy—you know, the usual." I laughed softly. "And, well... it's embarrassing to admit, but I'm considered... big. Even for us."

I cringed inwardly. Way to ease the guy into this, Kaida.

"Now, we Aetherions believe that when we're born, we're not complete. That somewhere, out there in the cosmos, exists another being—one whose soul is the perfect match to our own. A mirror, a twin flame, your people might call it a soulmate."

I couldn't help but giggle a little at the word. "We call it a Soulbound."

I paused, letting that sink in. I didn't want to overwhelm him. Though, honestly, that ship had probably sailed, exploded, and been swallowed by a black hole by now.

"So you mean that you and I are..." Scott's voice echoed, hesitant, like he was afraid to even finish the sentence.

"Yes," I said softly. "You and I... we're soulbound. Genetically, spiritually—we're meant for each other. Two halves of one whole."

He was quiet again. I could feel the tension twisting inside him, like a storm of doubt and realization colliding. I could feel it through our connection now—stronger than ever, like a tether humming with growing energy.

"You must've felt it," I prompted gently.

"Felt what?" he asked, guarded.

"A soul reaction. Your body acting funny. Strange instincts. Feeling like you're being pulled somewhere without knowing why."

Still nothing. But then, there it was—that little shift. That subtle jolt of awareness through our bond. A spark of realization. He remembered. I knew it.

"That's proof," I said, a little breathless, "that you're drawn to me. Just as I'm drawn to you."

I took a moment to remember the first wave of that reaction in myself. I had been at work—just monitoring a nebula collapse—when I felt it. My heart had skipped. My vision blurred. And then this... unbearable pull, like something vital had been too far away for too long.

"I dropped a star," I admitted with a soft laugh. "Just... dropped it. First time I've ever done that."

More silence from him. I hated it. I couldn't read his mind—at least not yet—but the connection was growing fast, and I could feel the weight of his thoughts pressing against me like fog. He was overwhelmed, confused, probably terrified.

I wanted to reach out and hold him. Comfort him. But right now, that would've been... complicated, to say the least.

"I didn't have a choice," I said gently. "If I hadn't acted on this connection, it would've gotten worse—for both of us. These feelings... they don't go away. They build. And eventually... it starts to hurt. Not just emotionally. Physically. And if the bond is left unfulfilled..."

I didn't want to say it. He didn't need to hear the word death right now.

But then he spoke.

"Look... I know this isn't your fault," he said, voice soft but steady. "And I know you're telling the truth. I can... feel it, somehow."

My whole body warmed.

"It's just a lot to take in."

"I know," I whispered. "I understand. I truly do. But—" I paused, swallowing hard, "I want you to know how grateful I am."

"For what?" he asked, almost suspiciously.

"For giving me this feeling," I said. "This feeling of completion... of love. I've never felt anything like it. And I would never, ever force you into something you didn't ask for."

Even though others of my kind would in a heartbeat, I thought with a twinge of guilt. We weren't always the most patient race.

"We can start off as friends," I offered. The words were heavy in my throat. "If... if that's what you want."

I tried to keep the sadness out of my voice. Really, I did. But I'm not sure I succeeded.

"No..."

His voice stopped me cold.

For a second, I thought my heart stopped, too—if that was even possible. I mean, sure, I was still recovering from the soulbound reaction, and maybe my perception of time was all sorts of wobbly right now, but in that single syllable, I swear the entire universe stood still.

I blinked—metaphorically—and waited.

Then his voice came again, softer this time. Honest. Like he was peeling off armor I didn't even realize he wore.

"I want this," he said.

I don't think I breathed.

"Deep down... I want to be with you. There's no point in denying that anymore. I probably haven't ever wanted anything more than... this. Than you."

And just like that—everything inside me melted. My nerves, my fears, my doubts, even the faint lingering ache of transformation—it all vanished in a single rush of warmth.

He kept going, and every word felt like a star igniting inside me.

"I'm nothing special," he said, and stars, the way he said it—so quietly, like he truly believed it. "Honestly, I didn't think I'd ever find someone who'd love me. So I accept your feelings, Kaida. I accept them... wholeheartedly."

I was glowing.

Like, literally glowing.

The warm, soft light that shimmered over my skin when my emotions got too big to contain? It was happening. And I didn't care.

"So what I'm saying is..." he paused, and I swear I could feel him building up the courage like a current running through me. "I guess I love you too."

A sound came out of me—something between a gasp and a laugh and maybe a squeak? I don't know. It wasn't elegant. But I didn't care. My whole body tingled like I'd just flown through a supernova, and I felt... whole. Like my soul, which had always been slightly off-balance, slightly hollow, had finally slotted into place.

"You... you really mean that?" I asked, probably sounding a little breathless, a little disbelieving. I mean, who wouldn't? My soulmate—my impossibly tiny, impossibly perfect soulmate—just told me he loved me.

This was the kind of moment ancient Aetherions carved into star-temples.

And it was mine.

A smile pulled at my lips—wide and unfiltered—and I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself, trying to contain the joy, the light, the trembling urge to scoop him up and never let go.

"I don't care how special you think you aren't," I whispered, my voice quivering with laughter and tears that couldn't fall. "You're mine. And you're everything."

The connection between us pulsed—stronger, deeper, more vivid than ever. Like gravity had just shifted, and he was now the center of it all.

My Soulbound had chosen me.

And I was never letting him go.