[ WP ] A world where soulmates die at the same time

We were soulmates, I had told her time and time again. 
 
 
 At first, she would simply laugh at me. She had known what was happening, of course. She was drawn to me, just as I was to her. Why else would she always stop by my desk to talk with me? Why else would she occasionally lean forward and touch her hand to my arm as she smiled? Why else would she wish me a'good morning' when I walked in, and a'good evening' when I clocked out? 
 
 
 Then, instead of laughing, there would be an uncomfortable twist of her lips in response to my declarations. It was half-way to a grimace, but still almost a smile. She was simply denying her feelings, this inexplicable bond between the two of us. I could be patient, let her come to it on her own. 
 
 
 I stopped seeing the flowers I sent on her desk. Once, when she was out at lunch, I checked the trash bin and found a bouquet of red roses shoved in its depths. 
 
 
 Next, she avoided me, and ignored my promises altogether. Whenever she stole shy glances my way -- she thought I did not see, but I watched everything she did -- her expression was tight. She knew what she would have to do next. I would take it slow, for her sake; coffee, first, I thought. Dinner, maybe a movie, and a few more dates until she moved in. No one would be too surprised if we married in a few months' time, I'd bet. In a world of people made for each other, one could tell when they had met their soulmate. 
 
 
 I could tell. She was starting to see it, too, I just knew. 
 
 
 She left, unexpectedly. It was difficult, not being able to see her every time I walked through the office, but I carried on. I just went to see her at her house, afterwards, my roses in hand. The first time, she opened the door and did n't take the flowers. After she had left me with a few choice words, and a slammed door, I carefully set the flowers on her welcome mat and returned home. 
 
 
 The next few times, the door remained closed. I left the flowers, anyway -- she would take them, and think of me as they sat in her house. She would think of me, and she would realize the truth to my actions, I knew. 
 
 
 The final time, a man came to the door. He yelled at me, and I took it calmly. He did n't understand what was between the two of us, me and her, soulmates. Only someone else with a soulmate would get it; someone as mad as him clearly had n't found his yet. His insane claims, that she already had someone and tht she wanted me to never come back, flowed off me like water. 
 
 
 I still left the flowers, though as I walked back to my car, I felt them hit my back. 
 
 
 There was one way of convincing her I was right. She would n't doubt me after this; she would know she was mine. That son-of-a-bitch would know she was mine. My soulmate, my partner in life, my woman -- she was all that and more, oh, so much more. She was perfect, and she would be mine. 
 
 
 She would regret all the time she spent with her door closed against me; every petal that was tossed into the trash. She was mine, and she would learn that soon enough. I could claim her. In this world, that was the way it worked. 
 
 
 I sat at my desk, I put the gun in my mouth, and I pulled the trigger. 
 
 -- -- -- 
 
 Hope you enjoyed this!... Well, I do n't know if you can really *enjoy* this piece, haha, but you know what I mean.; ) It was really interesting writing this, and it's an interesting prompt, too! So thank you. I was scrolling through the subreddit, trying to find something to respond to for this week, and when my eyes fell on this prompt, the idea just sprung into my head. I hope I pulled it off well!
