Soulmate AU

                                    

                                          
(Because I'm always a sucker for soulmate au's, but I've never actually written one before. Shoutout to fall_out_girl_16 for being awesome and encouraging me to try my hand at one shots in the first place, so go check out her stories because you will not regret it, I promise)
                          


                          
I was one of the few people without a soulmate. There was no name on my wrist. Society deemed these the unlovables, the broken. I was destined to be unable to get a good job, denied entrance to good colleges because while I had the grades and the abilities, I didn't have the ability to be loved or loved in return.
                          
I was fed up with it. I was sick of my worth being determined by a stupid name on my wrist, or lack thereof. I was sick of being told I was incapable of giving or receiving love. I loved a lot of people, but because I never wanted anything more, because I wasn't the same as everyone else, I was less of a person. Fuck the system.
                          
A blast of warm air hit my face as I came entered, a nice relief to the bitter chill that had seeped into my bones on the walk here. "Do you have an appointment?" The receptionist asked, and I nodded.
                          
"Under Nico di Angelo." I waited as she typed, then stood and I followed her to one of the rooms. There was a blond standing with his back turned in the room I was gestured to enter. "Hey." My voice betrayed my nervousness. I didn't even know if this man would agree with what I wanted, and I would be left feeling even more humiliated than when I entered the tattoo parlor in the first place.
                          
"Take a seat. What am I doing for you today Nico?" The blond smiled kindly and instructed for me to take a seat on the chair in the chair in the center of the room.
                          
"Umm, I was, I want-"
                          
"Spit it out, it can't be that embarrassing. I've tattooed people's genitals, your request can't be much worse." The man laughed, but I just forced a small smile.
                          
"I need a name tattooed on my wrist." The words tumbled out before I could stop them, and I covered my face to hide from the inevitable look of disgust on the blond once he realized I was an unlovable.
                          
"Any particular name?" There was still that constant, kind smile. It didn't even falter.
                          
"You're not going to kick me out? You're, you're actually going to-" I trailed off, not quite believing it would be that easy. 
                          
The blond pulled up his sleeve to reveal a bare wrist of his own. "I get it. It hasn't caused me any problems, which is why I haven't tattooed a name myself. In elementary and high school I would religiously write a name in sharpie and wore long sleeves. I've helped a lot of people out. So, any particular name?"
                          
"Uhh, no, I guess I didn't get that far. Surprise me." I shrugged, and he pulled his sleeve back down and pulled on some gloves with a snap. He cleaned the area on my wrist and got to work. I had to look away because the view of a bunch of tiny needles entering my flesh wasn't enjoyable. I was grateful when he had apparently chosen a short name. I would have died if he decided on a name like 'Averianna' or 'Christopher'.
                          
"Alright, that should do it." He wheeled his chair back a little ways and put his tools away. 'Will' was written in a way that it was indistinguishable from normal names assigned at birth. I guess he would be good, considering how many years he wrote it on his own wrist. "What do you think?" He turned back and started wiping my wrist clean and wrapping it.
                          
"I, I can go to school and get a degree now." My voice was thick with emotion, and he grabbed my hand, squeezing it. "This might be overstepping a little bit, but can I get your number? I've never met another unlovable, and you seem like a really nice person."
                          
"I prefer to not be called unlovable. It was a stupid term made up to make us feel less than others, but we aren't, okay? Never think that because it isn't true." He said, then held out his hand and I handed him my phone so he could enter his contact information. He handed it back along with papers detailing aftercare instructions and told me that I could pay at the desk in the front. I nodded and waved goodbye.
                          
When I checked my phone when I got home that night, I smiled. The name of the artist was Will.
                          


                          
(Just to be clear, they are both aromantic so they don't fall in love and live happily ever after, but they are best friend goals. Also, I'm not saying aro people are unlovable or incapable of love because that would be false. That's just the view of society in a world that palces so much value on the idea of soulmates and romantic love )