Bruises and how to heal them (Reichpol Soulmate AU)

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Reichtangle's POV

It had all started when Reichtangle was 8.

He had been eating with his family like any other day, when suddenly, a big bruise had appeared on his cheek and just a few minutes later on his knees and forearms. He had gasped at the feeling of pain and with a voice filled with panic had ran to his mother's seat to tell her what was going on.

His parents had looked at each other and, after a few minutes, had decided to let the food on the dinner table and talk in the living room. They had told him about his destined one then, explaining to him that any bruise or wound that any of them got, would show on the other side of the bond.

'That's the reason we tell you to be careful when you're playing or exploring. Your soulmate could end up hurt if you hurt yourself, and you wouldn't want that. Right?'

He had nodded, fascinated with the idea of being connected to someone like that, but as the time progressed, he and his parents had started to worry.

Almost everyday his other half would get hurt, purple and dark red spots filling his body, barely leaving space for them to heal.

The years had continued passing with bruises always spotting his body. He had grown used to the sudden pain that came with his other half and, saddened to think about his poor soulmate, he had always attended them with care. He had gotten used to kiss the pain goodbye, wishing that, through the bond, the other could feel that they weren't alone.

Now, there was something he had noticed ever since he was 15 about his soulmate. They had become stronger, the broken ribs and purple eyes turning into swollen knuckles and smaller bruises, so now he was sure that they weren't suffering some kind of domestic abuse. It was more likely that his other half just got into a lot of fights.

And he tended to win quite often.

Reichtangle sighed, watching with no surprise as his knuckles turn a deep shade of red, his skin trickling with pain. He waited until the pain stopped growing, washing the bruise and giving the area around a little kiss in a well memorized routine.

He walked out of the shower, putting on a shirt, a brown vest and brown elegant pants. He bandaged his knuckles before putting on some gloves. He was a rather big man, and he was sure if people caught him with bruised knuckles, they would scape his workplace and think he was a mafia leader or something on the matter.

Smiling in amusement, he got into the bus that would take him close to his small business, closing his eyes all the ride there and trying to ignore the pulsating pain.

He couldn't shrug the fear off, though.

It didn't matter how many times the person at the other side of the bond won, he couldn't shake the feeling of fear that came with every bruise. What if they stopped winning? What if they got beaten? Or stabbed? Or shot? They were not immortal, after all.

When the bus passed through his stop, he pressed the button close to the door, getting down and raising his arms into the sky as he stretched. The bus was really small for him... Another bad thing about his damn height.

He started walking towards the direction of his small bookstore, enjoying the faint breeze that blew against him, refreshing his mood immediately.

The sound of people screaming profanities at other person reached him just before a painful jab on his stomach. He walked a few steps, finding about four guys surrounding a smaller one, who clutched his midsection with an expression of pure pain.

He froze, watching as the red and white male got up slowly, huffing. The others laughed, but soon one of them stopped when a fist collided against the side of his face, blood trailing down his mouth as he fell into the ground.

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