Chapter Text

When he was younger, they didn’t understand soulmates yet. So few could write that it didn’t matter. Writing on skin wasn’t even considered, and he never considered that any of the marks he would find to be bruises.

When the world began to understand… When writing became more common, it was still difficult to comfortably writing on one’s own skin. Not that Elijah would have minded the pain.

He merely assumed the person was dead within his own natural lifespan. It was a truth that he had sat with for so long that he found he did not care. There was no reason for him to, he had the only thing that mattered to him. His family was his first responsibility, the one he had chosen for eternity. Niklaus needed him, and that would always be enough.

There was no where that he’d rather be but by their sides, by his brother’s side, their ever put together protector.

Nothing prepared him for the innocent scrawl of what must be a newly sixteen-year-old upon his wrist.

The day that a young person would finally, potentially, receive the news if their soulmate had joined them as they began to properly come of age.

No one knew quite why it was sixteen, but staring at that scrawl, he knew it had to be this young person’s birthday. That he, Elijah Mikealson, had his soulmate turn sixteen today, and they were waiting for a response.

Hello? I don’t suppose I can hope that I’ve already met you, can I? They say it’s unlikely… That often, the person will be more like a pen pal or a diary. Someone always there for you. I hope anyways. It’d be nice to know that you’re already here.

There’s no name, perhaps because this generation knows that not everyone is good and kind. Not even soulmates. He certainly isn’t, another fact he has long since accepted.

He wasn’t sure when it had appeared that day, shedding clothes for the night and going to wash his hands when he spotted it. Perhaps it had been hours or merely a few minutes before, but it was there. No smudges or markings otherwise.

Time passed unheeded as he stared at it before finally reaching for a pen.

The instrument twirled uselessly between his fingers as he tried to figure out what to write. Leaving the message unresponded to felt cruel, just as much as responding did.

What teenager would wish for him as a soulmate?

It is rather difficult to say if we have already met, though I doubt that to be the case. Happy Birthday, I hope it has been delightful. -E

That seemed fair and polite. Something that he could share with this young person despite the fact that he couldn’t even remember what it meant to be human particularly well himself. He could remember caring for his family, he could even remember his anger.

But humanity? His humanity was a long ways off though never turned off.

Maybe it was the better that he had never considered having a human soulmate. He hated when he couldn’t control things written on him. He would only be able to stand it for so long, so knowing that she was already looking at it was helpful.

The letters appeared quickly on his arm, glad at least that these could be covered by a shirt with relative ease. He hated feeling dirty, even the ink on his arm would begin to bother him.

You are here! Why are you so certain? You don’t even know who I am.

Let us say that I am a fair bit older than you if you are just turning sixteen. -E

Again, not a lie. Just not a full approximation of the truth of the matter. That he would always and forever be a thousand plus years their senior. He wouldn’t just drop such information on some random teenager. American? British? They spoke English, at least. Perhaps a girl. He didn’t think modern teenage boys would admit to keeping a diary.

There was no telling though for certain without asking, and that felt too much like prying for him.

Staring at his arm felt wrong as more letters were quick to appear, though a handful crossed out as they seemed to process what he was saying.

How old-

How long have you-

So you’re an adult. That’s awkward.

Quite so. I also do not know anyone in my life who has recently turned sixteen. -E

I’ve heard it happens? Don’t be a weirdo about it though.

Elijah couldn’t help but bite back a snort of amusement. A ‘weirdo’. He could handle not hitting that mark, certainly.

Rest assured, I have no interest in making this weird. You may always speak to me, though I make no promises otherwise to what will come of it. What time is it where you are? -E

Almost midnight. Why?

So, she wasn’t too far off from his own time. That was useful.

If it is a day to day matter, I ask you keep any messages for your evenings then. So that I can be aware of when to expect to hear from you and that we do not need to walk around with ink on our arms. And I will know if it is not a day to day matter. -E

Oh. That’s smart. I can do that.

It is greatly appreciated. I prefer to keep things neat. -E

They were quickly running out of room on his arm, thankfully. He wasn’t quite sure how to deal with this, his mind reeling the whole time even as they spoke.

Hopefully, she wasn’t ambidextrous.

Fair enough, I guess. Bit of a germaphobe?

Not quite. I can live with creating a mess. I dislike it staying though. -E

I’ll try to stick to the evenings unless anything dire happens. Nothing really happens here, though. Small town Virginia is boring, imo.

He made a note to himself to look up that slang.

Take care. And truly, happiest of birthday wishes upon you. -E

Thank you!

None of issues with being a mess stopped him from staring at the unfamiliar script drawn across his arm. The bubbliness that could only come from a teenager, truly. He couldn’t imagine it.

Carefully, he wiped the words he had written away.

The other person’s didn’t last much longer, though the ink smeared before they managed to get rid of all of it.

What was he supposed to even do with a soulmate?