A/N Hello! I know it's a weird pairing, but give it a shot. I hadn't thought about shipping Michael with Samandriel, but this just insisted on being written. This is T for violence, thematic elements, maybe language and sexual situations? I'm not entirely sure of where this is going. The first chapter has a lot about their childhoods and sets up their relationship. It hops around a lot, but when the plot really starts in chapter two it should become more coherent.

Important information about this soulmate world:

At birth, a thin ring of skin around the baby's right wrist changes color. Genetics have no clear connection to the shade of the band of skin (often referred to as a bracelet). The darker the color it turns, the more important and valuable the person is considered. Two soulmates will often have the same color bracelet, but the concentration is always different, so that one of them has a darker bracelet than the other. The partner with the darker bracelet typically tops, regardless of gender and age. Soulmates tend to be within five years of each other in age, but exceptions are not infrequent.

The first time you touch your soulmate the skin on your left wrist forms a bracelet to mimic their right wrist. This allows people to see your soulmate's rank as well as your own. The left bracelet shows that the bond is intact, and basically works as a wedding ring. Any time your soulmate writes out their first name it is tattooed in silver across your shoulders, neck or chest in a location specific to your couple. You feel a mild tingling sensation as the old copy of their name vanishes and is replaced with what they just wrote. The process begins sometime before birth as babies are not unfrequently already tattooed with their soulmate's name when they're born.

The lower person in the bond (the one with the lighter bracelet on their right wrist), feels inexplicably drawn to the other person in the bond. The person with the darker right wrist bracelet can see the emotions in their mates aura. This inequality in the bond can cause problems. It doesn't help that domestic violence against a lower soulmate is considered normal.

A/N I know that information's kinda long, but it really is important so please read it.

When Michael was five he learned to write. He practiced long and hard, for a five year old, because he wanted to leave a neat, legible signature on his soulmate. He desperately wanted to know his soulmate's name, so he figured that his soulmate probably felt the same way. He wished his soulmate had learned to write already, but he hadn't gotten the tattoo yet. His soulmate might not even be born. That was a discouraging thought.

But maybe his soulmate was still too young and just hadn't learned to write. That would make sense, and Michael knew that soulmates often weren't the same age. He perfected writing his name, and every day at sunset he wrote it down. He wanted his soulmate to know that Michael was thinking of him/her, and that seemed like the easiest way. It was the only connection between them.

He learned about time zones when he went on trips, and made sure to write with the right sunset. He didn't want to be an hour off. What if his soulmate thought Michael had forgotten about him/her? He found out what time sunset was at, so that he could set alarms and catch the right time, even if he wasn't at a window. Michael never missed even one day.

Five Years Later

Samandriel was sitting at a chair, studiously looking out the window at the slowly setting sun. It was taking forever. He reminded himself that it always took forever and he needed to be patient. He always watched the sun set, waiting for the reminder that his soulmate was out there and cared about him. His whole life he'd felt that tingling sensation on the back of his neck every sunset, it meant Michael's name was being rewritten there.

The sun slid below the horizon, and Samandriel's stomach churned in excitement. Even though it always happened like clockwork, this was the highlight of his day. Michael might write his name dozens of times over the course of a single day, in both cursive and manuscript, but this time was different, special.

A soft tingling sensation brushed across the back of Samandriel's neck. It had happened. He hurried to his mother's two way mirror set to check and make sure it was right. He couldn't read yet, but Samandriel recognized the signature on the back of his neck. It was in elegant, even cursive, just like always. A little smaller than yesterday, he noticed with disappointment, but clearly legible.

Three Years Later

Michael tried hard to concentrate on the lecture, but the funny tingling on the back of his neck was making it hard to concentrate. Amendments to the Constitution, he told himself. Focus. Normally history was an easy subject, but his neck felt so weird. It was very distracting. He started to worry. Was this some sort of medical problem? Did he have a rash or something?

Michael raised his hand. "Mr. Roberts, can I go to the nurse's office? I feel- weird."

Any other student in that class might've been disbelieved, but Michael was such a good student and studied so hard that the teacher let him go. He went down the hall to the nurse's office. She looked at the back of his neck.

"How long have you had your soulmate's name here?" she asked.

"My what?" Michael asked. "Wait, my soulmate learned to write?!"

"Ah," the nurse said. "So that's the problem. The tattoo can be a bit uncomfortable if you're not used to it. From the looks of it, I'd say Samandriel's learning to write his name."

"Samandriel?" Michael asked excitedly. "That's his name?"

"Yes," she said. "It's a long name, too. That's probably part of why it's annoying you. Here, come look in the mirror. It's a two way, so you should be able to see it."

Michael stared at the scruffy writing in the mirror. "It's beautiful," he said in an awed voice.

The nurse looked skeptical. "It's rough. Probably a first grader."

"So you think he's six?" Michael asked.

She shrugged. "Somewhere in that range."

Michael's neck tingled again, and Samandriel's writing shuffled over slightly. The new version of his name was about the same. A six year old, Michael thought. So he's about seven years younger than me. And I know he's a he. Samandriel.

Two Years Later

Samandriel was staring at his face in the mirror. A bruise was rising on his cheek, and dried blood traced a path down from his nostrils. He'd been beaten at school by a group of older kids. Lots of people had walked by. Nobody had tried to help him. Eventually a teacher came to break up what he called a fight, but Samandriel had taken all the blame. It had been four on one, and Samandriel was the only one hurt. How was it his fault?

But those four kids had had dark bracelets. Samandriel's bracelet was the color of fresh snow. Pure, icy white. So the bullies went to the nurse for checkups, and Samandriel went to the principal's office for getting beaten up. He'd had to take a note back to his father, who spanked him. It didn't make any sense. He wanted to start crying, but he was worried Anna or Uriel would hear him.

Samandriel stared down at the white ring of skin on his right wrist, thinking hard about soulmates. He was torn. On one hand, the mate with the darker bracelet had all the power in a relationship. Michael could do pretty much anything to him and nobody would raise a hand to stop him. That was scary. But on the other hand, Samandriel could barely imagine the amount of dedication it took for Michael to write out his name every single day at exactly the right time.

Samandriel just worried that all that dedication would vanish when Michael saw Samandriel's wrist. He didn't want that to happen. He found himself starting to wear long sleeves all the time, hoping to make the bracelet less visible. But he felt like it was tattooed on his forehead and nobody could miss it.

Three Years Later

Michael was finding freshman orientation very dull. They were sitting in a classroom, talking about how much harder college was than high school. Michael knew that already. He'd taken classes at the college and had to work it around his high school schedule for the last two years. He lightly drummed his fingers on his knee and partially tuned out the discussion session. Sleep schedules, support groups, blah , blah, blah. Wait. Did he just say soulmates?

"Will everyone who has found their soulmate please raise their hand?"

Michael scowled. He was still patiently writing his name every sunset, but he really wanted to meet Samandriel. It was getting hard to wait after hoping for so long. A lot of people were nervous about their soulmate, because a mate with a darker bracelet could make their mate's life horrible. Michael wasn't worried at all. His bracelet was ebony black.

Pure black bracelets like Michael's were unusual, and even if Samandriel had one they would be equals. Samandriel couldn't come out on top. But Samandriel's bracelet couldn't be black, because there was always a notable difference in darkness. Soulmates never were equals. The thought was distressing.

One Year Later

It was definite now. Samandriel did not want to meet Michael. The pain that Samandriel associated with the white soulmate bracelet on his wrist had made him consciously give up on the whole idea. But he still found himself waiting with baited breath for the sun to set each night. He wished he could make his subconscious give up on Michael.

The white bracelet meant pain. Samandriel's brother Uriel wanted to throw him out into the street because of that band of skin, even though Samandriel was only twelve. His other brother, Balthasar, thought he should dye the bracelet to make it look different, darker. His sister Anna wanted to have him committed to an insane asylum to get him off of their hands. His only sibling who was even remotely supportive was Rachel. She was a brat a lot of the time, but she understood that people meant more than the strip of colored skin on their wrists.

Samandriel's father had him locked up in the house. He could only leave to go to school, and he had to be driven there, he couldn't walk. He was basically permanently grounded for the crime of existing. He wanted to go outside. He wanted to have time to stare up at a bright blue sky and feel the breeze mess up his hair. It was depressing, being trapped indoors all day long. He found himself daydreaming about somewhere free.

One Year Later

Michael was renting a two bedroom apartment by himself. Most college students couldn't afford that kind of thing, but Michael's parents were rich. As long as his grades were good he could stay there. He called his parents every few weeks, but that was the limit of his contact with them.

Michael had two friends. Gabriel and Raphael. They both had black bracelets. They were the only people he felt confident were friends with him because they liked him, not because he was practically royalty with that black bracelet. Gabriel was mischievous and loved pranking people. Half the time Michael couldn't keep up with him. It was like he was on a permanent sugar high, which made sense given the amount of candy he always ate. He was still in high school.

Raphael talked less, and people listened when he spoke. He was serious and withdrawn, and Michael saw huge wells of pain in his eyes. Michael and Gabriel were his only close friends. Raphael and Michael would stand silently or do homework, while Gabriel raced around like a hyperactive puppy and dragged them into all sorts of things they'd never think to try. They weren't half bad, as friends went.

Please review and stuff. Thanks for reading this!