Hermitcraft Oneshots and Requests

Ink and Flowers

Requested by VukoviCantEven.

Man, I haven't said that in a while.

I made a couple of changes to the initial request, but I really hope that you enjoy this fic!

Now to go and write some more Scarian.
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Word count: 2810

With each passing minute, darkness bled further and further into the clear, blue sky that encompassed the entire city. Above the houses were the smallest of stars, twinkling brightly in the vast expanse of space. Even in the darkness, there was light.

Stress sat by the windowsill, admiring the serenity of the night. Unlike the day time, when traffic clouded her vision and sounds filled her senses, right now was completely still. Silent. She knew that she shouldn't be awake. However, tonight could be different. Tonight, she would treat herself to just a little bit of misdemeanour and enjoy the peace that came with the witching hour.

Above her, the first snowflakes were beginning to fall. Winter was well on its way, and Stress was excited for it. She loved the cold sting that ran through her fingertips when she touched the ice, or the pristine whites of the snow that covered ground. She had moved into that town earlier that year, in the early summer months, disappointed to have missed the spring. However, she would not miss the winter.

And she would definitely not miss the coming spring.

A yawn escaped her lips as she leaned against the windowsill, her gaze fixed fondly on the snow that had started to set. By the morning, she knew that she would be in a winter wonderland, surrounded on all sides by the fluffy, white snow and the cold, icy air.

With her blankets pulled up to her chest, she continued to look out into the world, ready to drift away. She wasn't used to staying up so late. And she wanted to be up bright and early to play outside the next morning.

Maybe she could build a snowman. Or an igloo. Or a castle out of the snow. She'd build the biggest castle out of all the snow.

Her eyes fell shut under the weight of her own fatigue. She felt content, and warm, as she began to fall asleep in the favourite spot in the room; by the windowsill, near her bookcases and many, many books.

She could have drifted off completely right then and there, if it hadn't been for the dull pain that tugged at the skin of her hand.

A new wave of excitement washed over her as she sat up properly, suddenly wide awake. She smiled, eyes fixed on the back of her hand as the letters began to form. Her soulmate was awake, and writing something once again.
.
.
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Soulmates.

Two halves of a pair that were destined to meet. The bonds they shared were in heartstrings, and their writing.

It was a strange phenomenon, where when one person were to write something on their body, it would appear on the other person's skin. It had become a game for Stress and her soulmate to communicate through these little writings.

Stress could remember clearly, as though it were just yesterday when she absolutely hated her soulmate's guts. The first incident, as far as she could recall was having green splatters of paint all over her hands that just couldn't be removed. At the time, she was young and afraid that she had gotten infected, and was turning into a slime with that bright shade of green.

For a while, it was rare for any connections to be made amongst them. Paint and ink splattered here and there, and she knew that her soulmate also had to deal with it as often as she did. However, when middle school had started, she found all sorts of writings on her hands, trailing all the way up to her forearm.