🎉happy birthday to me🎉

This oneshot is making me stressed cuz i feels so short but then I've realised that's because I'm still recovering from the last 44,000 word oneshot 🤪

Anyways there's not actually much crossmare in this one dkdhsisjdhus. After all, I owe you an explanation for a certain two couples after the last update 👀

By the time he was finished, the bathroom had more steam than the amazon jungle in the rainy season. Water droplets beaded against the frosted glass window and ran in torrents down the glass shower screen, zigzagging and dashing and bolting in a race to get to the drain first. The air felt thick and warm, like as if breathing through a scuba mask.

The water that ran from his body had been the most disgusting shade of brown, starting off all the way at burnt umber to sienna to beige to translucent. The process alone took a whole thirty minutes. Every single inch of his body was scrubbed raw; joints, bends, dips and cracks. He had used every single water pressure and almost every soap on the rack to get rid of that awful mud stench - he didn't know what he'd do if he stepped back onto that cream carpet still stinking of shit. There had been; soft mist; rainy haze; torrent; impending rain; soft. It made his shower back in America feel like a leaky trickle. And the soaps? He probably smelt like every damn scent on the planet after using those. He noticed the residents here had preferred brands and scents, ranging from coffee to cherry scented.

His bones shined brightly, never looking more white in their life. They stood out in great contrast against the grey fluffy towel he wrapped around himself, relishing it's warmth. It was around 100x better than the towels back in the apartment they were renting; soft and plush instead of clumped and scratchy. It absorbed the water quickly and he dried himself within an inch of his life until not an ounce of moisture could seep into his bones.

Reaching out his hand he wiped leisurely at the fogged up mirror, casting away the frosted silhouette of himself and dragging free a slightly wobbly image of himself to reflect on. He looked bedraggled still, but there was light to his eyes, a sparkle he hadn't had before. People called it the soulmate spark - a glimmer that was more recognisable to yourself than anyone else. It inexplicably appeared for everyone once one's soulmate had been found and only faded when they died. It was a spark he'd been waiting for since he was sixteen.

Swiping at his forehead he grinned, not caring how goofy he looked at the moment. He was Cross Peñaloza, and he'd found his soulmate. After twenty three years on this miserable Earth, he'd found his forever partner; only seven years after those dreadful words had appeared on his wrist.

Now that he thought about it, the words were hilarious. You look like a fucking mess. Oh how his parents had worried and his friends had tried to reassure him as he'd broke down over some scrawled handwritten words. He'd been dreading meeting his partner. How stupid is that? And to think all that stress had been for nothing! It was like a crippling weight had been cast from his shoulders and he could finally stand tall.

Snatching up his new clothes Cross laughed aloud, shaking his head. Come to think of it, his words spoken must have been nearly as bad as his message. Look, I've had a shit day, so you can just fuck off. He wouldn't be too pleased to receive that on his big day either. But it had all been for understandable reasons. God he couldn't wait to tell the others.

The conscious thought that his friends might be worrying about him upon finding the apartment empty slipped across his mind but he cast it aside. He'd call them later.

The clothes were soft yet crisp, simple black sweatpants, a white top and a grey sweater. He slipped into all of them eagerly, wiggling his arms through the appropriate holes and tucking the front in. The feeling of being dry, clean and free of mud was nothing short of bliss and he took a moment to simply relish the moment, tipping his head back as he ran his hands over his face. He couldn't quite get it out of his mind. He'd found his soulmate. The mere thought sent his soul spiralling in an upwards spiral so fast to the point he felt it might leap from his throat.

Pressing his hands anxiously together Cross stepped towards the door, cringing as he saw a slight smear of mud on the handle. It was swiftly cleaned away with the swipe of a towel. Twisting the knob slowly the door eased open without a creak, the action so fluid and smooth that Cross nearly stumbled. He was so used to the awfully stiff doors in their current rented apartment that he was now several blocks away from.

This time when he stepped on the wooden floor he didn't feel as if his touch would rot it. In fact, the ugly mud he'd trapped through earlier had disappeared completely, swept and scrubbed clean by someone. It gave him great relief to see.

His gaze dragged across the hallway and down to where he knew the living room was situated; where he assumed Nightmare would be. He'd taken about one step before he heard murmuring voices.

Though it was none of his business he turned slowly, his focus stopping on the two figures that stood in front of a bedroom doorway, an apparent argument brewing. The two silhouettes were encased in the soft blue glow of moonlight that flooded through the window at the end of the corridor, making them seem ethereal.

One hissed sharp words to the taller, a hand reaching out to grip the other's wrist and jab at it sharply. The action was received with a quick retreat and growled words that Cross couldn't make out from his position. He almost felt like calling out, yet he knew he was in no position - he was a stranger here, not even a guest yet.

His presence wasn't long unnoticed and one glanced over with a grunt, slapping the smaller's hand away before marching over to Cross, voice a cool sneer of dripping honey. "My Brother is waiting for you in the living room, I wouldn't keep him waiting."

Nodding sharply Cross opened his mouth to answer but Dream was already gone round the corner, leaving him. His gaze flicked back to the other stood at the end of the corridor and he watched as they shakily lit a cigarette, hand hastily tugging down their sleeve to cover their wrist.

For a moment they locked eyes and Cross shivered, recognising Killer's cold and dead gaze. Turning on his heels, he left him alone to himself with questions he wasn't entitled to plaguing his mind. Why had Killer and Dream been speaking? Why had they been so close? And what was the argument over?

Shaking his head softly Cross cast his thoughts away and took a sharp breath. They weren't his concern; what was, would be the dark boned skeleton waiting for him. A slight smirk twitching on his lips he turned, gaze instantly finding Nightmare's as the darker pushed himself up off of the kitchen counter. He flashed him with his white teeth, a grin so charming it had his footsteps falter.

Ignoring Dream, Abi and Outer, Cross stepped over to his new partner, his soul fluttering in his chest as he stood by his side. This was his future.

As he walked over Nightmare held out a hand that he gratuitously accepted, glad this time that his touch wouldn't be repulsing with oozing mud. His grip was firm and surprisingly cold considering the warmth of the apartment, but he didn't care. It was hardly a flaw, in fact, it somewhat made him like him more.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why I've brought this stranger into our home." He spoke and Cross shifted, gaze flickering across the room. His throat felt slightly clogged, as if someone had shoved a few too many cotton balls down it.

"I can't wait to hear this." Dream muttered, taking his girlfriend's coke and lazily crossing one leg over the other. His golden pupils burned into Cross, taunting, daring. He didn't like him already and he could tell. Beside him Abi stretched out, her head resting on his shoulder as she inspected her pointed nails so long that you had to wonder how she did anything.

Outer shifter on the sofa anxiously, his conscious oblivious to Cross and Nightmare as he stared off longingly down the corridor where his partner had slunk off to, thumbs pressing together. At one point he caught him rubbing his fingers over the words on his wrist, as if trying to revive them or call Killer over. But he didn't enter the room.

"This is Cross," Nightmare started, his grin widening and tentacles rippling behind him to curl around Cross and drag him closer to his side, "and he's my soulmate."

All at once Dream spat the coke he'd nearly swallowed, coughing loudly and wheezing as if he'd been told the shock of the century.

"This- this American wannabe royal guard looking thing is your soulmate-?"

Nightmare's eye sparked and he chuckled, turning to face Cross with a look he'd felt void of his entire life.

"Indeed he is."

—————

Killer was silent as he heard commotion from the living room, his dull pupils flicking over to stare down the corridor blankly as he lit his second cigarette. His hands were shaky, trembling with nerves he thought he'd got rid of years ago since his his early life.

Lifting the butt of the cigarette to his lips he inhaled shakily, letting the smoke suck down his throat momentarily and wash through his system before it spilled from his mouth in a rushing torrent. The white cloud brushed past his face and steadily dissipated in the air under his cold gaze, fading into the air once more where it became invisible to him. Lingering, the smell stayed, clinging to the fabric of his clothes and plaguing it with the smell everyone complained about so much.

With the stick only half used he decided he'd finished, tugging up his sleeve to grind the smouldering end of it against his scarred wrist. It's light was smothered with a hiss, a sharp pain shooting up his arm in result. He liked it; it helped clear his mind. The burn mark would cover one of many others, joining the abstract circular scarring pattern that distorted his bones.

Letting the cigarette fall to the floor he stepped on it, eyes rolling down distastefully to look at the new scar. He hadn't done that for months, having thought he'd been getting over his 'sickening addiction'. That's what Dream had called it.

Dream.

All at once his pupils disappeared as he thought of the golden skeleton, fingers dragging roughly over his wrist where the black italic writing lay imprinted. It was worn under the edges, but the writing wouldn't disappear, no matter what you did to it. A soulmate tattoo was an ancient form of magic; no coverings, chafing or scratching could remove it. The only possible way would be if you were willing to part with your own wrist.

"You shouldn't smoke, you know."

Those were the words. The dreaded words on his wrist that plagued his mind night after night after night. The words that ran screaming through his mind every time he saw the clean freak.

"You shouldn't smoke, you know."

The voice was cool against the cold air from the apartment window and Killer's eyes dragged over to watch Dream duly as he took a long drag, letting the bitter smoke consume him. His wrist tingled yet he ignored it.

"I know."

In that moment his wrist burned and he dropped the cigarette completely, not registering it tumble from his fingers to the ground thirteen floors below.

Those words-

"Then stop." Dream gave a distasteful look in his direction and shook his head before turning on his heels, swiftly exiting and leaving Killer confused.

Those words. He'd said them. Looking down at his wrist in a hurry he found the words inscribed in that delicate writing.

"You shouldn't smoke, you know."

But why hadn't Dream reacted? They were soulmates, he'd said his words-

Dragging his fingers across the words Killer snarled and shook the memory away, fingers twitching as he tried to force the words from his bone uselessly. Dream had said the words, the perfect phrase. Yet he'd responded wrong.

It had been the next day when Killer had spied Dream's message while he was eating breakfast in the morning, the short words spindling across his slender wrist.

"Do you want one?"

That's what he was supposed to say. His partner's tattoo had been different to his own verbal response.

Killer himself had been told on multiple occasions by different people that smoking was bad for him, yet he'd never felt his wrist burn like that at their words. They had been empty, Dream's had a connection. His soulmate.

It was only the next month that he brought home Abi, and he felt as if his life had crashed down. Another smoker, one that had the guts to offer Mr perfect one when he'd commented. He'd accepted. They were bonded.

And then the next week he came across Outer. He hated him. Really, there was nothing wrong with him - he was a nice, friendly and intellectual guy with a fascination for space. He was physically and socially fit and did try his best for Killer. He regretted asking if Outer if he wanted a cigarette the moment the question spilt from his lips. Their wrists had burned, their eyes had glowed, and that was that. Their fate had been set.

As he stared out at the blackened skies of London Killer pressed his forehead against the cool window glass, watching the beading water rush down it shakily. As a little boy he used to imagine the drops racing each other to get to the bottom, forever playing games with his orphan friends to select a raindrop and root for it to win. Of course every three seconds the youngest kids would change their raindrop to a faster one the moment their current one fell behind.

"Killer..?"

He involuntarily stiffened upon hearing the soft voice of his partner, a hand tentatively squeezing his shoulder. "The others are missing you.."

"Are they?" He asked dryly, eye sockets still black as he stared. Dream hadn't understood when he'd tried to explain to him. He'd turned him down.

"Yeah, c'mon." Careful fingers intertwined around his own and Killer glanced down blankly to see Outer's hand. His focus dragged upwards to where his soulmate smiled weakly, squeezing his hand. "Let's go listen to Nightmare's story, then I'll fix up your wrist, okay?"

He frowned sharply as he stared, noticing that he hadn't pulled his sleeve down fully and the new burning scar was on display, a flushed pink colour in contrast to the faded purples of the others.

"Uh, sure." He muttered, nodding as Outer slowly tugged him away from the window and back towards the living room. Unable to help himself he stared at Dream; the man stared back. The golden skeleton's focus dropped to his now covered wrist, pupils burning into the words that Killer had shown him earlier.

"You remember saying this, don't you-?"

"No."

It had been a lie.

Sitting down he pulled his partner next to him and slung an arm over his shoulder lazily, squeezing him softly as Outer slumped against him and got comfy to watch as Nightmare smugly displayed his soulmate. He'd not been best pleased before at being the oldest yet still the only one in the household without a soulmate.

Rubbing the fabric of his hoodie between his fingers Killer hummed, once more feeling Dream's pupils burning into him, a hot knife searing through his wrist to peel him open to the very core, as if that would change what his tattoo said. They were connected, he'd realised.

A slight smirk played on his lips as he sank into the sofa and watched Nightmare clear his throat, pulling Outer closer with no affection.

"As I was saying," Nightmare started, "It all started when I went out to collect our bank check and I passed Hyde park to witness some sort of mud creature emerge from the ground-"

Beside him his new partner flushed in embarrassment and he briefly recalled seeing him drenched head to toe in mud, stinking of shit and rotting wood. He nearly snorted.

"I of course went to help, but this ungracious creature decided it was fine by itself..." Nightmare's voice dragged in a metronomic drone and Killer zoned out, eyes elsewhere.

Tonight had been a turning point. For everyone.

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2,888 words oof

Cross finally got rid of that rain smh

I liked this chapter but I also disliked it smh

ANYWAYS AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA MY TWIST WITH KREME
Do you see why I did it? 😁

Also. My favourite comment from the last update of soulmates:

It made me giggle Ngl

-Jess-