This fic was written for the Mystic Messenger Secret Santa event on Tumblr.

The first time the words appeared on Saeran's arm, he panicked. His only warning had been a warm, itchy sensation that'd made him look down, only to find a black scribble on his skin.

Can you see this?

He screamed. He couldn't help it - as much as he rubbed, the words wouldn't come off, nor did his hand get dirty with ink. Saeyoung rushed to his side, eyes wide, but once Saeran explained what was wrong, he hesitated, his gaze fixed at the point where Saeran could see the dark words in stark contrast against his reddened skin.

"I can't see anything, Saeran."

Before Saeran could process what Saeyoung had said, their mother came. He should've excpected it, should've known better than to make so much noise. His ears hurt with her screams, louder than his own; still, he tried reaching her - arm extended, he tried telling her about the words, tried asking her what they meant.

His only answer were two days without food, getting by with only the scraps Saeyoung managed to sneak him behind their mother's back.

By the time Saeran got an explanation for the words, that first question had been long gone, though several variations of it had taken its place as the days passed, none of which could be seen by his brother. Nevertheless, it was Saeyoung who brought him the answer, having talked to his friend from his secret visits to the church.

"Soulmate?" Saeran repeated after his twin had finished explaining.

"I know it sounds complicated, even I didn't understand all that V told me, but... he said it's a good thing," Saeyoung said. "That whoever is talking to you, you can trust them. So you don't have to be afraid of the writing. He said it happens to everyone."

"Why hasn't it happened to you, then?"

Saeyoung shrugged. "Maybe my soulmate doesn't know how to do it? I can think about that later. I have to focus on getting us out of here first."

Saeran ran his finger over his forearm, free of any writing at the moment. The idea of having a way of communicating with someone out there was both exciting and frigthening. Unlike Saeyoung, he could barely ever leave the house, so he had no idea how a conversation with someone he'd never even met would go. Besides, what would their mother do if she found out? Saeyoung had guaranteed that no one could see the writings except for him, but Saeran had asked her about it once. She must have known what it meant, even if she'd ignored his question. If she suspected he was talking to some random person-

"You're worrying too much again," Saeyoung said, breaking Saeran's train of thought. He scooted closer, throwing his arm around his brother's shoulders and ruffling his hair. "Talk to them. Won't it be nice to have someone you know to meet when we run away from this place?"

Saeyoung smiled, warm and encouraging just like his words always were, and it took away a bit of Saeran's fear.

"I'll try," Saeran agreed, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. The next time the words appeared on his skin, he'd have an answer for them.

For a week, Saeran waited for another question, but his skin remained clean and that itching sensation didn't return. Despite the panic he'd felt earlier, the absence of any messages now made him feel empty, as if he'd lost something important. Whenever his mother was out of sight, he closed his eyes and tried to send a message of his own, but he had no idea how he was supposed to do it. The explanation Saeyoung had gotten about it had been vague - stop thinking about anything else but the words, focus on your feelings. Saeran didn't think it was working, but he never stopped trying, the thought of having someone who might care enough to want to talk to him and Saeyoung's insistent support always at the back of his mind.

While the lack of sucess in talking to his soulmate again was frustrating, that week had been one of the calmest Saeran could remember. He and Saeyoung spent nearly all the time together in their room, undisturbed by their mother. In their house, however, peace never lasted too long; and when the storm came, this time, it was worse than it had ever been before.

Saeran never knew what had angered their mother that night - something about their father, no doubt. The smell of booze hang heavy in the air as she screamed at him and Saeyoung, grabbing Saeran's arm to drag him out of the room, a rope held tightly in her other hand. Even though he was weaker, Saeran still struggled, earning a slap as he was thrown on the kitchen floor.

"Let him go," Saeyoung pleaded, following them and trying to pull their mother away from his twin. "Please, let him go!"

He fell to the ground as she turned around, hand moving to grab his hair.

"Shut up," she hissed, pulling Saeyoung back towards the bedroom. Saeran screamed his brother's name, their eyes locked as he tried to reach for him, being stopped by the rope that tied his legs. Soon, however, Saeyoung was out of sight, a loud noise signaling that he had been locked in the room.

Even though he expected it, what happened when their mother came back wasn't any easier for Saeran to bear. His body, already fragile, was soon covered with bruises, the familiar pain sinking through his flesh and into his bones. By the time he was left alone in the dark, his face was wet with tears, the metallic taste of blood sticking to his mouth as he propped himself up against the wall, hugging his knees against his chest.

"Please hear me," Saeran whispered. "Please hear me. Please hear me. Please hear me," he repeated like a prayer, desperation lacing his words as his entire body trembled - from fear, or pain, or both. His voice seemed to echo in the empty kitchen, but he didn't care. By now, his mother would be passed out somewhere in the house, unable to harm him or his brother until she woke up. But even though they were out of danger now, Saeran still felt helpless, his breath hitching every time he remembered the look in Saeyoung's eyes as he was dragged away by his hair. He needed something, anything, that would make him remember that there was a world out there who didn't revolve around this.

Saeran didn't notice when he stopped saying the words out loud and started repeating them in his head. He had lost track of time, the soreness in his body already faded from his mind, when his arm suddenly heated up, causing him to jump in surprise. He had to resist the urge to scratch as dark letters quickly scribbled their way onto his skin, the handwriting messier than he remembered.

Hey, are you okay? Didn't you get my messages before? You don't seem fine... What's your name? What happened?

Saeran squinted to make out the words in the faint moonlight that shone through the window. His heart beat fast, a strange mix of fear and anticipation. He ran his fingers over the words, slowly this time, marveling at the way they warmed up against his fingertips. For some reason, his eyes welled up with tears of relief, and he struggled to control himself as he focused on what to say.

I'm Saeran, he thought. It didn't answer all the questions, but he had to start somewhere. I saw your messages. I didn't know what they were, at first. Then I didn't know how to respond. A pause, and then a thought he hadn't meant to add slipped. You actually heard me.

Saeran watched in fascination as the previous words in his arm disappeared to make room for new ones.

I'm MC. What do you mean you didn't know? Didn't your parents tell you about the connection between soulmates?

He hadn't planned on telling her what really happened. This was still a new, unknown territory that Saeran had dared to step on - it should be scary. But even though he couldn't hear her voice, there was a sense of safeness that came from MC's words, and before he could stop it, his mind became a jumble of confused thoughts about everything; about his mom, the prison that was his house, his brother, how he couldn't have known about the existence of this connection. About that night, and how it had been worse than usual.

When Saeran calmed down, he was breathing hard, as if he'd just run a marathon. His eyes widened when he realized what he'd just done, revealing everything about his life, blindly trusting someone he'd never seen. It was reckless. It was dangerous.

There was nothing he could do about it now.

Please, you can't tell anyone, he pleaded, counting the seconds until MC's answer came.

Saeran, you... I'm so sorry. I won't tell. But you can't stay there! Who can live in a place like that!? Can't I help get you out of there?

No. You can't do anything, Saeran said. Noticing how abrupt he must have seemed, he added, I'm not staying here forever. Saeyoung said he'd get us out of here. I believe in him.

Saeran waited for MC's answer, wishing he could see her face. This was his first real contact with someone other than his family, and he didn't want it to be based on pity - but he also didn't want her to decide he wasn't worthy of her words anymore.

Do you want me to tell you a story?

Story?

MC didn't respond right away. Saeran fidgeted impatiently, wondering if this time his message hadn't gotten through. He was about to try sending another one when new words appeared in his arm, with pauses between them as if MC were hesitating.

I... write stories, sometimes. It's silly, but... reading them helps me when I'm sad. So I thought maybe... if I told you one of them, it might help. If you want.

Resting his head against the wall, Saeran closed his eyes, a tiny smile that felt almost foreign forming on his lips as he whispered, "Okay."

After that night, talking to MC became a constant thing in Saeran's life. He didn't have any problems sending his messages anymore - except for when Saeyoung would start teasing him and break his concentration. Still, he was more careful than ever when it came to his mother, preferring to start a conversation with MC only when she was asleep and he didn't risk getting caught.

Saeran would often stay awake deep into the night, reading MC's stories about made up worlds and brave knights, about talented magicians and evil creatures, stories of adventures and victories and, most of all, of hope. Sometimes, she would talk about the real world, taking him with her through her words to meet the people she met, see the places she visited, do the things she did. He didn't know how much of it had actually happened - MC tended to enjoy making things sound dramatic whether she was writing fiction or reality - but he treasured those conversations nonetheless.

In the beginning, he wasn't as talkative as he'd been that first night. MC didn't give up, however, and every once in a while she'd try to make him speak, not necessarily about his family, but still trying to get him to open up again.

Tell me a story, she said one day, catching him off guard.

Me? I can't.

I've told you plenty of stories, it's only fair that you should tell me at least one, right? Doesn't have to be made up. It can be about anything. Even about what color the walls in your room are, if you want.

Saeran laughed, trying to search his brain for anything that would be interesting. He didn't have enough imagination to come up with fictional worlds as well as MC did, and he definitely didn't want to make a story out of the terrible things that happened to him. When he raised his head, however, his eyes fell on Saeyoung, sitting on the opposite side of the room with a heavy book in his hands, and a memory - one of his only happy ones - came to his mind.

I almost never get out of the house. But there were a few times when Saeyoung helped me sneak out of our room and we went outside, Saeran started. He wasn't good with words, but he tried his best to describe what it had felt like to have the blue sky above him, how soft the grass had been under his feet, how the wind on his face had been like fingers on a gentle caress. He talked about having ice cream, cringing when he accidentaly bit it and made his teeth hurt, but forgetting the pain as soon as the sweetness melted in his mouth.

When Saeran finished talking, he realized he was smiling. Somehow, MC must have noticed his fondness as he remembered those times, because when her words appeared on his arm they were even warmer than usual.

That story was better than any of mine, Saeran.

As days turned to months, Saeran began feeling restless every time he heard Saeyoung talk about escaping. Enduring their mother's abuse had become easier with MC's words to make him feel better, but the closer they got the more frustrated Saeran became about not being able to leave the house and actually meet her. His trust in Saeyoung hadn't wavered - he saw the way his brother studied, spending the whole day hunched over a book - but Saeran was tired of just sitting by and letting his twin do all the work.

With that in mind, he sat next to Saeyoung one night, waiting until he raised his eyes from the pages he'd been reading.

"I want to learn too," Saeran said. He could tell that whatever his brother had expected him to say, it wasn't that, but he went on, "I know I'm not as smart as you, but I can do it. I'll try hard, and you can teach me."

"Saeran, what... why? I can..."

"I want to help. It's not fair that you have to do things by yourself."

Saeyoung stayed silent, his mouth hanging open as Saeran stared at him.

"Are you serious about this?" Saeyoung asked, receiving a nod in response. "Saeran, I don't know what we'll have to do. V is going to try to help, that's why I'm studying, but... if that doesn't work out-"

"I don't care," Saeran cut him off. He usually wasn't this forceful, but he'd never been more determined about something. "If I study too, then it'll be easier for things to work, won't it?"

Saeyoung hesitated. Saeran leaned forward, putting his hand over his brother's.

"Please."

Saeyoung sighed, but moved so that Saeran could sit closer, putting the open book down in front of them.

"Okay."

Saeran smiled.

"We'll get out of here, Saeyoung. Together."

Does that mean you've become a brave knight?

Saeran was glad MC couldn't actually see him, because he was sure he was blushing. He'd been more cheerful than usual after his conversation with Saeyoung, and his excitement hadn't gone by unnoticed. Inquisitive as MC was, she'd ended up making him tell her what happened, and had been teasing him about it ever since.

I'm not a knight. I could never defeat a dragon to save the princess.

I'd beg to differ. But a king, then. Standing on his castle, a ruler who has just conquered his kingdom.

He had to laugh at her ridiculous comparisons, though it felt good to know she might actually see him like that. It wasn't a bad dream, to imagine himself as someone as important as a king, with more freedom than he could ever think of. And maybe...

Does this King have a Queen?

Saeran cursed at his lack of control over his thoughts. It was something that happened more often than he would like; he had to stop letting MC distract him so much. Hiding his face in his hands, he waited for her reply, fully expecting to be mocked for his sillyness.

He does. Or at least he has someone who wants to be her. She's not as strong as him, though.

It took Saeran a moment to fully process what he'd just read. When he did, however, his heart started beating faster, his chest tightening with something akin to pain, but not exactly bad.

Oh, but she is. She's a magician.

Really? What kind of magician?

She's a magician of words. She can weave them together and create anything she wants, but she only uses her powers for good. She's really powerful, and she has saved the King many times.

When MC's reply appeared on his arm, the handwriting was shaky, but Saeran's fingers tingled with warmth as he ran them over the question.

Is the Queen his soulmate?

Yes. She is.

It took a while for Saeran to match Saeyoung's pace, but he never gave up on studying. Like he'd said, it was easier when they could discuss things together, helping each other when faced with something difficult to understand. Though his body was still fragile, Saeran had never felt more motivated; not only because of MC, but it felt good to feel like he was doing something. So he'd push himself, read Saeyoung's book over and over again, until all the theories and numbers made sense and were engraved in his mind.

In the meantime, Saeyoung kept in contact with his friend - V - when he went to the church. He'd told Saeran that he might have news soon; finally, after weeks of waiting, he came back home with a huge smile on his face.

"We're getting out, Saeran," he said that night, when their mother was asleep and they were huddled together in their bedroom. "V has a friend who's the heir to a company called C&R. He can get us work there - it's a huge company, so their security has to be tight, and by now we're good enough to be of help to them. It'll be a tough job, but it'll pay well enough, and it's nothing that would draw attention. We can have our own life like this. Out of here."

It felt surreal. Saeran had hoped for it, but now that he was actually faced with the opportunity to escape his hellish life, everything felt like it hung in a bubble, ready to burst at any moment.

Saeyoung found a way to get us out, he told MC. He got us a job.

Saeran, I'm... Oh, God, I'm so relieved to hear that. I'm so happy.

I'm happy too, he replied, and as soon as he'd thought it Saeran realized it was the truth. Leaving this house was scary, and it would hurt, but it was what he wanted, and of one thing he was certain - he would never regret it.

With V's help, Saeran and Saeyoung found a small apartment in the city, not far from the main C&R building. Luckily, they didn't have to go to the office very often; all the necessary equipment had been set up at their place, for which Saeran was grateful. Adapting to their newfound freedom was hard, and he felt uncomfortable being around people he didn't know.

Despite the difficulties of facing such big changes, a weight had been lifted from Saeran's shoulders. Smiling was easier; he didn't have to be afraid of laughing, or talking to Saeyoung about whatever he wanted. And, most of all, he didn't feel like he had to hide his conversations with MC.

As much as he wanted to meet her as soon as he'd left his mother's house, they preferred to wait until he was used to his new life. For the following months, they talked at every possible moment, sticking to their soulmate connection even though now Saeran had access to other means of communication. It felt right that way; every time his arm warmed up with MC's words, it was like a promise of something that belonged only to them.

Finally, as fall turned to winter and the streets were all decorated with Christmas lights, Saeran and MC decided to meet.

For the third time since he'd arrived at the square, Saeran checked his watch. There were still fifteen minutes until the time he'd agreed to meet with MC, but he kept looking around, wondering if he'd be able to recognize her from afar. He hadn't wanted to see her through pictures before they met, but now he wondered if that had been a bad idea. Being Christmas Eve, the square was filled with people walking around, coats zipped up against the cold, their breaths forming clouds ahead of them. The crowd bothered him, and he flinched every time someone accidentaly bumped into him, fighting the urge to walk to a more secluded area.

Saeran refrained from checking the time again. He'd arrived early, so of course MC wouldn't be there yet. He didn't want to try to talking to her, either - the last thing he wanted was for her to notice how anxious he was. As long as he stayed at the place they'd planned to meet, she'd find him. All he had to do was wait.

"Saeran?"

Saeran almost missed her calling him amongst the noise of the square. Her voice was softer than he imagined, and when he turned around his breath caught in his throat. All those times when he wondered what MC looked like, Saeran didn't even come close to picturing how beautiful she actually was - and nothing could've prepared him for her smile, as sweet and warm as her words had been.

"MC," he said. His body was frozen, unsure of what to do, but then MC was running towards him and her arms were around his waist. Even though he usually avoided human contact, he felt safe as he buried his face in MC's hair, smiling as he pulled her closer.

"I missed you," MC whispered. It should've been a weird thing to say considering that this was the first time they were seeing each other, but Saeran knew exactly what she meant. It felt as if they'd always been like this - like this moment wasn't the beginning, or the end, but something as natural as breathing for both of them.

When they finally separated, MC fidgeted, her cheeks red as she reached into her coat, pulling out a small rectangular package.

"This is for you," she said. Saeran slowly took the package from her, trying to ignore the shaking in his hand. MC had already given him so much, yet here she was, looking at him expectantly as he unwrapped the delicate paper to reveal a book. The cover was a soft green, with nothing but three words written in gold.

Kingdom of Words.

"That way you won't forget our stories," MC explained.

Saeran's throat went dry, and he had to swallow a few times to find his voice again.

"Thank you," he said, fighting back tears as he raised his gaze to MC's face. "Thank you," he repeated, using his free hand to cup her cheek. "But I could never forget."

He kissed her, a shy press of cold lips, all of their words and stories and feelings contained in that moment. They stayed close even after the kiss ended, laughing when their eyes met again.

"Merry Christmas, MC."

"Merry Christmas, Saeran."