Vanessa woke up suddenly. She had a throbbing pain in her side. Carefully, she sat up, wincing in the process. She looked under the covers, and saw a huge bruise on the side of her stomach.
Only, upon looking closer, it wasn't a bruise at all; It was a large black rose.
To say the poor thirteen-year-old was shocked would be an understatement.
"Mom..." she called suddenly. She was scared. This had never happened before.
Her mother burst into her room, looking worried.
"Ness? What is it?"
"The flower hurts, mom." She said weakly, throwing off the sheets, and allowing the rose to be seen. The worried look dissipated slightly.
"I suppose there's something I need to tell you." Said the older, black-haired female reluctantly. She sat on the bed, and the small girl carefully crawled into her lap, playing on her non-flowered side.
"When... If..." she took a breath, collecting her thoughts. "Sometimes people have a perfect match. Not always, but it isn't uncommon either. Now, when som

someone has a perfect match, their connected. Like me with your father. If he got hurt, I'd feel it, and show it, and the same thing happened to him if I got hurt. We could tell how we were hurting by what flowers blossomed on our skin. But the flowers don't come to someone until they turn thirteen. I guess your perfect match finally came of age."
"Mom, but he's hurt. And how am I going to find him." Vanessa grew concerned for the health of her soulmate.
"He probably fell, and he's probably in a hospital right now. You'll find him eventually. You always will in the end."
+-+
On Wallace's thirteenth birthday, he wasn't expecting his dad to come home. He hardly ever came home.
But on today of all days, he came home.
And the poor boy with sandy hair was punched in the side by his father for denying him another can on beer.
Wallace was sure he broke a rib. He sent a plea to some deity, somewhere, that he had no soulmate. He knew that she would suffer if she was matched with him.

Wallace was, of course, denied that luxury. Two days later, he woke up with a small ring of daisies across his neck. His throat was /killing/ him. He tried to drink water, but it hurt too much.
The poor girl was probably miserable. The pain of a broken rib, plus a terrible sore throat. He wished he knew her. He needed to apologize.
+-+
The large black rose on her side had turned into a bouquet of dandelions over the course a few months. It was healing.
Vanessa was glad. She hated it when her soulmate was in pain. What she wanted to do most was talk to him. But she had no idea how.
It wasn't until she remembered that their bodies were connected, (which took the child practically forever) that she concocted a plan. With a small knife, and an apology, she began to lightly cut a small message into her thigh.
/hi Im vanessa Who r u/
She cleaned up the small trickle of blood, and waited for a response. It came an hour later, in a cluster of black roses spelling out thin words.

/Wallace. Im srry I hurt u/
/me 2/ Vanessa moved to her stomach /where u live/
/britain  u/
/USA/ the next words came on her arm. They hurt the most.
/my # is/ wallace quickly cut it out. /call me/ there was a pause. /if u wan 2/
Quickly, Vanessa slathered neosporin and a band aid across her cuts, and then picked up the phone. This was going to be expensive, but if she could get his address, it'd be worth it.
She dialed. It rang three times, and then someone answered.
"Hullo?"
"Wallace?" She asked, cautiously.
"Yea. Vanessa?"
"Yes."
There was an awkward pause.
"I guess we're soulmated." He said, causally.
"Guess we are... what happened to you? On your side?"
Wallace didn't answer right away. "My dad..." he said, so quietly she almost missed it. "He, uh, he hit me."
"I'm sorry."
"What happened to your throat?"
"I spent two days crying for you." Vanessa said, abashedly. There was another silence. "What's your mailbox address? I can't call all that often." Wallace gave

it to her, and she wrote it down. "I'll write all the time." She promised. For the first time in his life, he felt appreciated.
"Someday," he said, "I'm going to fall arse-over-kettle for you."
Vanessa giggled.
"I'll hold you to that."
+-+
Over the span of five years, Vanessa and Wallace grew close. Vanessa told her parents all about Wallace. His hobbies, his interests, and even about his father. Her mother asked if there was anything to be done, but Vanessa shook her head. She'd already asked.
Wallace always felt terrible when the signs of his fathers temper showed up on Vanessa's body. In his letters, he always apologized when his father did something particularly nasty to him. Vanessa was always quick to tell him it wasn't his fault. That is father was cruel and abusive, and Wallace didn't deserve what was happening to him.
When he turned sixteen, his promised love for Vanessa made itself apparent. He couldn't keep it to himself. When she was sick with the flu, and loads o

f arum-lilies decorated his body where she ached, he wrote to her a different sort of letter.
/Dear Vanessa,
I love you. God, you mean the world to me. I go through so much, and you're always there to listen, and make me feel like I'm worth something. I wish I didn't live an Atlantic away from you.
Love, (it feels wonderful to write that)
Wallace Baker/
He sent it, and hoped she'd respond quickly. He needed to know.
Four days later, a thick letter covered in stamps arrived. He tore it open, and began to read.
/Dear Wallace,
I love you too. I always have. Ever since we cut our names into each other I loved you. I'm so glad you're in my life.
Wallace, my daddy and I had an idea. I know you hate it in London,and we thought, when you turn eighteen, you might want to come and live with us? My parents love you, they love all your drawings and pictures. And you're my soulmate. I sent some plans. My parents will buy the plane ticket. Its not too expensive, especially if we buy a wh

while in advance. I'd love to be with you.
Let me know how you feel about it.
Love you,
Vanessa Matthews/
Wallace smiled. He was so lucky to have her as his soulmate. He accepted, and for the next year and ten months, the two planned his escape.
+-+
June 15 finally came. Wallace woke up, and felt happier than he had for a while. He finished packing, and gathered every pound he had to his name.
"Hey Dad?" He called throughout the flat before he left. He got a moan in reply. "I'm leaving. And I'm never coming back." He got no response. "See ya in hell." Wallace said finally, growing irritated. He slammed the door behind him.
After a seven hour flight, he landed in Tyler, Texas; The rose capital of the world, and the hometown of Vanessa Julia Matthews, love of his life.

He looked around the airport, hoping to see a somewhat-pale, willowy, girl with hip-length black hair, and beautiful dark blue eyes.
Someone tapped his shoulder, and he jumped.
"Hey there, stranger." Said the voice he loved the most.
"Hey cowgirl." He said, and she rolled her eyes, remembering the nickname he gave her when he was fourteen. She loved the sound of his voice. He had brown eyes, and sandy hair that curled his face. She loved him, and he her.
She pulled him close, and kissed him. Her parents were watching but she didn't care.
"Will you marry me?" He asked when they broke apart. She giggled, but stared. "Hang on." He rummaged through his pockets, and found the twist-tie from his lunch on the plane. He got down on one knee, and curled it. "Vanessa Matthews, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" She laughed.
"I guess. Don't really have much of a choice, do I?" She said, extending her hand. He put on the makeshift ring, and pulled her close. He kissed her,

first deeply on the lips, then lightly on the cheek. A small bouquet of red roses and pink tulips appeared.
He'd love her, forever and eternally. She she felt exactly the same.
+-++
So there's a thing.
Not my best work, but here it is

AHHHH IM SQUEALING ITS SO CUTE