The Perfect Bond
Imogen’s mind prickled with emotions not her own. She felt a distinct presence, reaching out to her, begging her to respond in kind. The stranger sent her waves of joy and excitement, tinged with confusion, and Imogen wished more than anything that she could escape it. She didn’t possess the skill to fight off the presence, as much as she wished she did.
Taking a deep breath, she turned back to her magic book -- if she wanted to get into a good Advanced Academy, she had to study hard. Imogen scowled when the mental noise prevented her from making any sense of the words on the page. If she allowed herself to think about the intrusion for too long, fright would swallow her.
Imogen knew exactly what the intruder was -- her alleged “soulmate.”
Rare, “lucky” people psychically bonded to one another as “perfect lovers.” These bonds were even called perfect bonds, a strange name to Imogen. A “perfect lover” could feel their counterpart’s emotions, and the pair would automatically fall in love once the two sealed their bond. Said bonds started when one partner saw their perfect lover and recognized their mental imprint. The starting partner -- almost always someone empathically gifted -- would send out a signal letting the other know, and, in most cases, the other would open their mind and accept the bond. Most people couldn’t help accepting the bond. Even the starting partner did their part largely on instinct.
Most people, in fact, wouldn’t want to refuse the bond. Some would even actively seek out the bonds, though this proved futile far more often than not. Imogen’s society revered soulmate relationships, thinking them far superior to regular relationships. Imogen rubbed her temples, trying to relieve her building headache -- trying to fight the bond hurt. She did not revere soulmate relationships at all, finding the idea of being unable to choose her lover to be a horrible fate.
Her headache kept building. Imogen struck, with the palm of her hand, the table she sat at in the library. She cried out at the surprising amount of pain from her action. Instead of relieving her, the pain distracted her enough she forgot to keep fighting the perfect bond. Emotions crashed into her mind and heart, overwhelming her and making her vision blur. Gasping for air, Imogen rebelled against the intrusion. It didn’t matter -- soon enough, the bond sealed itself, her mind and the mind of her partner coalescing into one unit.
The bond had established itself, and Imogen could do nothing about it. She heard footsteps -- all this time, her perfect lover had been sitting on the opposite end of the table. Now, Imogen presumed, she would bother to introduce herself.
Without quite wanting to, Imogen lifted her head and looked at the other girl. She blinked several times as their eyes met. Much to Imogen’s disgust, butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she gazed at the other’s bright green eyes.
“There’s been a mistake,” Imogen muttered, trying to convince herself of that.
“Mistake? Are you alright? I hope I didn’t hurt you,” the girl said. Imogen noticed the giant purple flower attached to her purple headband. That kind of thing would have looked ridiculous on her but fit the girl perfectly. Of course.
“You kind of did,” Imogen muttered, managing to tear her eyes away from the girl. “I wasn’t looking for a soulmate.”
She slid into the next seat over and put a hand on Imogen’s shoulder. “It’s not really something you ‘look for,’ is it?” she murmured. “By the way, I’m Edith. But you can call me Edie.”
“Imogen,” she said. She felt Edie’s confusion and her...hurt over Imogen’s attempted rejection. Even though the perfect bond had gone through, Imogen’s headache remained, and she shut her eyes against the pain. It didn’t help. Some part of her felt guilty over trying to reject the other girl and yet another part of her resented Edie for making her feel guilty.
She had been unable to fight off the bond -- she knew she couldn’t get rid of it. Feeling unbalanced, Imogen grabbed the edges of the table and ignored Edie’s hand on her shoulder. For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to tell the other girl to stop touching her. Imogen figured that to be a side effect of the bond between them, and she hated it.
How was Imogen going to deal with all this?
Taking a deep breath, she turned back to her magic book -- if she wanted to get into a good Advanced Academy, she had to study hard. Imogen scowled when the mental noise prevented her from making any sense of the words on the page. If she allowed herself to think about the intrusion for too long, fright would swallow her.
Imogen knew exactly what the intruder was -- her alleged “soulmate.”
Rare, “lucky” people psychically bonded to one another as “perfect lovers.” These bonds were even called perfect bonds, a strange name to Imogen. A “perfect lover” could feel their counterpart’s emotions, and the pair would automatically fall in love once the two sealed their bond. Said bonds started when one partner saw their perfect lover and recognized their mental imprint. The starting partner -- almost always someone empathically gifted -- would send out a signal letting the other know, and, in most cases, the other would open their mind and accept the bond. Most people couldn’t help accepting the bond. Even the starting partner did their part largely on instinct.
Most people, in fact, wouldn’t want to refuse the bond. Some would even actively seek out the bonds, though this proved futile far more often than not. Imogen’s society revered soulmate relationships, thinking them far superior to regular relationships. Imogen rubbed her temples, trying to relieve her building headache -- trying to fight the bond hurt. She did not revere soulmate relationships at all, finding the idea of being unable to choose her lover to be a horrible fate.
Her headache kept building. Imogen struck, with the palm of her hand, the table she sat at in the library. She cried out at the surprising amount of pain from her action. Instead of relieving her, the pain distracted her enough she forgot to keep fighting the perfect bond. Emotions crashed into her mind and heart, overwhelming her and making her vision blur. Gasping for air, Imogen rebelled against the intrusion. It didn’t matter -- soon enough, the bond sealed itself, her mind and the mind of her partner coalescing into one unit.
The bond had established itself, and Imogen could do nothing about it. She heard footsteps -- all this time, her perfect lover had been sitting on the opposite end of the table. Now, Imogen presumed, she would bother to introduce herself.
Without quite wanting to, Imogen lifted her head and looked at the other girl. She blinked several times as their eyes met. Much to Imogen’s disgust, butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she gazed at the other’s bright green eyes.
“There’s been a mistake,” Imogen muttered, trying to convince herself of that.
“Mistake? Are you alright? I hope I didn’t hurt you,” the girl said. Imogen noticed the giant purple flower attached to her purple headband. That kind of thing would have looked ridiculous on her but fit the girl perfectly. Of course.
“You kind of did,” Imogen muttered, managing to tear her eyes away from the girl. “I wasn’t looking for a soulmate.”
She slid into the next seat over and put a hand on Imogen’s shoulder. “It’s not really something you ‘look for,’ is it?” she murmured. “By the way, I’m Edith. But you can call me Edie.”
“Imogen,” she said. She felt Edie’s confusion and her...hurt over Imogen’s attempted rejection. Even though the perfect bond had gone through, Imogen’s headache remained, and she shut her eyes against the pain. It didn’t help. Some part of her felt guilty over trying to reject the other girl and yet another part of her resented Edie for making her feel guilty.
She had been unable to fight off the bond -- she knew she couldn’t get rid of it. Feeling unbalanced, Imogen grabbed the edges of the table and ignored Edie’s hand on her shoulder. For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to tell the other girl to stop touching her. Imogen figured that to be a side effect of the bond between them, and she hated it.
How was Imogen going to deal with all this?