Date written: December 2nd, 2016. CCS stands for 'Capital City Ship', which in this case means Jerusalem (Aaron) and Manila (Mikael). That one Soulmate AU prompt where the words you write on your arm get tattooed on your significant other's arms.

He can't remember how long it's been since the words started pouring from his pen.

It just happened one day - instead of on paper, he started to write on his wrist, scribbles overlapping the scars on his pale skin - hiding, covering up all his deficiencies. It didn't matter what he wrote; he just did it for the release, for the temporary relief from the constant turmoil in his head.

To fall is not to be free. It is to be tugged out of your own control.

I'm all alone but I hear voices in my head.

I'll be fine, they said. I'll heal, they tell me. But how would that be when the injuries are inflicted from within?

He's breathing shallowly now; his head of dark hair hanging low, thick locks covering his brown eyes. He sits with fingers tightly clenched around his pen, nails digging into plastic, knuckles flat against the wood of his desk. He's closed his eyes, counting from one, two three until all the gossip around him turns into incessant buzzing, into more of the voices which crowd his overflowing mind.

He's a freak, they say. He's not normal, he's weird, he's sick in the head. Maybe that's true, maybe it isn't, but Mikael can't tell anymore.

He opens his eyes, letting go of his pen just long enough to tug down his sleeves, hiding his arms from sight as the teacher enters. He's slumped over in his seat, harsh breaths hissing from in between gritted teeth. He never wanted to be here, but his adoptive parents insisted, saying that he needed to get used to the new environment.

A new family - a recently married couple; the mother having been married once before, and had had two children (both around his age), the father also having had three children of his own from a previous marriage, though all were grown adults. He was a problem child they'd picked up from the orphanage, where nobody wanted him - he was already sixteen, too old to accumulate to a new place, two years too young to be left alone in the world. So they'd taken him in.

Everything was supposed to be fine - whatever fine was for the de la Cruz family, he didn't know. But he got used to it, got used to his new siblings. Maria was older by almost a year, but they were stuck in the same year at school. Antonio was nearly two years older, being about a year older than Maria. Lucia was already in her late twenties, Vina and Malik following. It left Mikael to be the youngest in his new family - the outcast, despite Maria and Antonio's efforts to make him feel at home.

He hisses out another breath, looking up through his glasses. He can barely hear his teacher drone on about a new student, one who would be joining the class that day. With a monotonous call, the door was pushed open, and in walked a cheerful-looking blond, blue-green eyes wide with an excitement rivaling that of an overgrown schoolboy.

Mikael rests his cheek against his palm, attention immediately ripped away as the boy starts his introduction amidst the buzzing of all the girls in the class. (With two transfers in such a short span of time in between, no wonder they were stirred up. He could practically sense the amount of feminine hormones in the air.)

"..alright. So you'll be seated next to... Mr. de la Cruz," his head jerks up a bit at that, and he narrows his eyes, watching as the boy - who happens to wear a short-sleeved shirt in this abysmal weather, revealing a set of marks on his arms - perks up at their teacher's voice. "Mr. de la Cruz, if you would raise your hand.."

Mikael fights off the urge to scowl, gingerly raising his hand. The boy seems to brighten up at that, making his way down his aisle and plops down onto the empty seat next to his.

"Before you say anything," he starts quietly, averting his gaze, "it's better if you don't talk to me."

The boy appears to be confused at that. "Why not?"

He sighs irritably, picking up his pen and writing down his emotions onto his other wrist. Anything to distract himself. Anything to ignore the curiosity of this boy.

A soft, almost hesitant 'oh' escapes the blond's lips, and Mikael's met with the sight of familiar words etched upon the slightly tan skin of the boy beside him.

Not everything you see wanted to exist in the first place.

A curse immediately springs to the forefront of his mind, just barely there on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down.

"How..?" He manages to get out, and the boy smiles - a hint of abashed surprise and sheepishness in his smile. "What... who...?"

"I don't know either," he agrees with a soft, almost nervous laugh, "but my name's Aaron, and... Well, if this is proof enough, I think that I might be your soulmate."

end?