Arna Renheim
Arna and her mother conducted a fair amount of small talk over the course of a taxi ride to the restaurant. Conversations about the state of Nelcorp and sorcery casually floated between the two until the discussion got to the name and date on Arna's wrist.
"Yea, todays the day." Arna said, looking longingly at her own wrist, the ink a permanant reminder of her fate.
"Did you ever look him up?" Arna's mother asked, looking over at her daughter, who pulled her phone from her purse.
"Yea, obviously there's no way to know that this is the right guy, but I looked his name up online yesterday, before we left. Here" she pulled up a wikipedia article containing a picture of Brian Maxwell.
"Ooo, nice. I certainly hope it's him. Well, he's not quite a hunk like Aurus, but he looks charming." She snatched away Arna's phone, looking through the wikipedia page. "Oh. Oh! He's smart and rich! You ARE getting with this guy no matter what.. well, if he is your soulmate, anyway." Arna quickly snatched back her phone, her face glaring at her mother in a perturbed fashion.
"MOTHER!" Arna's mother giggled a bit as Arna defensively clutched both her wrist and her phone. "Can you at least try to act with a little more civility or something?"
"Civility, I don't know what you're talking about, dear."
They got to the restaurant, mentioned their reservation, and were taken to a table upstairs. They had been there for almost an hour by the time they finished their meals. They were simply talking and sipping wine. Arna's mother gave the bottle a number of harsh looks and glances.
"I don't know if I particularly like this.. vintage.. that's what their called, right?" Arna stiffled a laugh, as she watched her mother conduct herself in such a silly manor.
"Mother, you're no wine conessour, are you?"
"What, and you are?"
"I dabble."
The conversation between parent and child was immedietly interrupted by a dull burning sensation emmenating from Arna's wrist, and a subdued look of suprise and joy from her mother, who seemed to notice something, or someone behind Arna.
"Arna, isn't that him!?" She leaned slightly forward, and spoke in a half whisper as if they were high school students gossiping about some boy.
"Who?"
"Him!" She motioned towards a man who looked remarkably like the photo they had looked at earlier.
"Brian Maxwell." Arna muttered under her breath as she clutched her right hand around her left wrist, which seemed to be inlaid with glowing ink which burned her skin. The waiter who had led Brian to his table walked over to Arna and her mother, and quickly handed Arna a piece of paper.
"Sorry, to bother you."
"It's alright." Arna read the short message which confirmed what both she and her mother had thought. Brian Maxwell was most definitely Arna's soulmate. The woman was wracked with glee, which she attempted to restrain, leaving her lightly shaking.
"Are you alright miss?" The waiter politely asked.
"Yes, i'm fine." Arna's mother began to prepare for the pair to leave, paying the bill and whatnot, while Arna pulled a pen out of her purse, and jotted something on the back of Brian's note. She had written her phone number and email address so that Brian could contact her at a better time. Her plan was to go back to her mother's apartment, sleep, wake up in the morning, and then think about contacting Brian. Arna was too flustered at the moment to take on such a challenge as talking to the man.
The pair got up to leave, both happy with their meal, and with at least Arna's mother being joyful at the turn that the night took. On their way out, Arna passed by Brian's table, and silently handed the note to Brain. Her hand still shook, but her face had reduced in it's level of worry. She was still worried, of course, but she seemed to be smiling radiantly at the man who dared to have his name on her wrist.
@Karos