((im thinking of doing multiple different soulmate aus that are out there, any specific ones you guys like/want to see me write?))

Tattoos. Everyone in the world was said to be born with one that would match their soulmate's.

Your parents had matching doves with holly branches on their shoulders. Your grandparents had matching lightbulbs with the filaments in the shape of a heart on their biceps.

Even your little sister who was only 7 had already found her soulmate, the new girl in her class with fiery red hair and a stunning sunrise on her ankle to match.

But you'd heard the stories about people who were born a blank slate. No tattoo. No soulmate. Destined to just wander around their lives falling in and out of meaningless love.

You were ashamed to admit it, but no matter how many hours you'd spent scouring every inch of your body, you couldn't find a tattoo. There was nothing.

You'd given up on drawing fake Sharpie tattoos on yourself, and now threw your whole being into your work. Your boss was nice, and pretty much the closest thing you had to a friend, because all anybody could talk about was their tattoos. But he was different. Mr. Nestor would snap at anybody that brought up soulmates at work, garnering him the reputation of being crass. You admired his drive to be focused on work.

As you handed him a file at a meeting today, your eyes glanced over the tattoo on his thumb that you'd seen a million times. A small gear with a heart in the center. He had never mentioned a girlfriend, wife, or any form of romantic relationship. Perhaps he hadn't found his soulmate yet, and that's why he would get angry at others discussing it.

"Y/N?" Your coworker Felix broke into your thoughts, sending you back to the meeting at hand.

"I'm sorry, I was up all night brainstorming yesterday." You diverted your eyes back down to your notes.

"We were wondering about your thoughts on Amy's proposal."

You worked at the media marketing company, Tuber Marketing, with many other successful people in your field. Ethan Nestor was the department head of advertising while Felix, you, and Amy worked under him. This meeting was in conjunction with the department of design, and the budgeting department. The Design Department was headed by Sean McLoughlin with his soulmate known as Wiishu working under him, as well as Felix's soulmate Marzia Bisognin. Meanwile, the Budgeting department was headed by Mark Fischbach, Amy's soulmate, and included Tyler Schied.

"Well," you looked over the layout, it was the outline of a marketing plan for a chain of bakeries set to open across California within the next six months. "I think it's a good idea to start with the ads across the board announcing the arrival. However, as the grand opening comes closer, perhaps we could hold tasting parties for richer investors, and free sample pop-up stands for the public in the towns they'll be opened in?"

The others took a moment to consider your plan, as Amy scribbled down some notes. "I think that's a good idea, Y/L/N." Your boss spoke up, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat as his blue eyes connected with yours. It was only for a moment before he turned his attention to Mr. Fischbach and Tyler. "What would the budget look like for that?"

"We had already allotted for the necessary TV, radio, internet, and billboard ads." Mark mused, looking over his own notepad and calculations.

Tyler made a few suggestions, pointing to certain things and whispering quietly with Mark. He then spoke up so everyone could hear him. "I think we can make that work. We will need to take out a little bit from the design budget, if that's alright."

Wiishu, Mr. McLoughlin, and Marzia exchanged glances before Sean addressed everyone. "That should be fine, we have the logo, physical ad designs, the preparation for TV and radio ads, and the uniforms done."

Your chest clenched painfully as you couldn't help bit notice the loving smile he cast to his soulmate as he described what they've already completely. He was so proud of her. Their matching line-art eyes on their collarbones were visible as they both turned their heads to look at Tyler, who had spoken again.

"There's only one issue with the investor party idea. In order to be able to afford the venue Y/N had in mind, we will need to book it on a Thursday."

"The 26th of next month should work." Mr. Nestor brushed off his concerns, calendar laid on on the table.

"No, I mean this Thursday."

A silence washed over the room, and you were the first to break it and eerie effect it had on everyone. "Will the investors be able to come with such short of a notice?"

Suddenly, everyone began talking over everyone with their own doubts and worries. The noise was giving you a headache, and you were about to yell for everyone to quiet down, but your boss beat you there first. "Everybody shut up!"

At the younger man's outburst, the other closed their mouths and he continued on. "It appears to be a rare day in which our major investors all have a coinciding night off. And our biggest investor, Mr. Patrick, is a man known to never pass up a party."

Your coworkers and you exchanged light laughs at this truth. "So, can Tyler go ahead and call the hotel to reserve the ballroom?" Mr. Fischbach asked, clearly itching for the meeting to be over.

"Why do I have to make the call?" His employee asked indignantly. They had always seemed more like close friends than boss and employee.

But the fact that Mr. Fischbach's eyes never left Amy's was explanation enough. Soulmates who just wanted to be with each other. You could faintly hear Mr. Nestor reluctantly end the meeting, and everyone stood up. Amy's tattoo of a beautiful white-blonde dog on her wrist flashed in the light as she reached out to take Mark's hand in hers. He had his own on his wrist as well.

That heavy weight that always lived at the back of your mind of never having someone to love like that suddenly became a crushing force on your chest. You could almost feel your windpipes closing, mindlessly following the others out. Your feet guided you by their own to the elevator, pushing the up button.

"Why are you going up? Everyone is done for today." A voice said from beside you, and you turned to see Mr. Nestor standing there, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his briefcase.

"I just need to grab something from my desk before I go home." You fibbed, stepping onto the open elevator. Truly, you were just going to keep working to keep your mind off of the tattoos.

Mr. Nestor followed you on, pressing the button for 15, the floor with your offices on it. "Sir? Aren't you going home?" You asked, withdrawing the hand that had already moved to press the button.

He gave you something like a smile as the elevator started going up. "I need to grab something from my desk as well."

Holding back the urge to roll your eyes at his sarcastic tone, you tried to defend yourself. "Really, I'm just getting my jacket, I left it on my chair."

"Ms. Y/L/N, I don't appreciate my employees lying to me."

"Oh, right. Sorry, sir."

When you snuck a glance back at Mr. Nestor, that half-grin was still there. He was still teasing you. With a scoff, you patiently waited for the doors to open back up. As soon as they did, you rushed off the elevator over to your desk. Opening your laptop, you immediately began typing up the finished advertising proposal from your notes.

A hand on your shoulder took your attention from the bright screen to whoever it was. It took a couple blinks for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the rest of the office. Looking down at you was Mr. Nestor, his suit jacket off, tie loosened, and dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. In this attractively disheveled state, he seemed less like your boss for a moment as he held out a granola bar to you.

"Thanks." You said quietly, ripping the package open with your teeth to continued typing with one hand.

"Y/L/N, go home." He sighed, and it didn't quite sound like the orders he usually barked out.

"I will, I've just gotta send this to Tyler so he can make the budgeting revisions then I'll get going."

"He's already left for today, he won't even see it until tomorrow morning anyway. Just send it then."

You opened your mouth to argue, but Mr. Nestor's stern glare came back, silencing you. "Yes sir."

"Goodnight, Y/L/N." He said to you, sounding almost tired as he retreated back into his private office.