[15] soulmate tattoo au (pt. 5)

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The first people you and Mr. Nestor ran into were a couple that floated between the Design Department and your own department, so you knew them from previous projects. Nathan Sharp, who did music for the ads, and his girlfriend Morgan, who did costumes for the ads.

You made small talk with them before someone's fervent waving caught your attention. It was Felix and Sean, and you desperately tried to look away, but you'd already made eye contact. "I think I'm going to go talk to Felix and Sean for a moment, okay?" You begrudgingly excused yourself, detaching your arm from Mr. Nestor's.

When you had joined your coworkers, they had the biggest shit-eating grins on their faces you'd ever seen. "What do you idiots want?"

"So, Mr. Nestor?" Sean wiggled his eyebrows.

"Have you two fucked?" Felix asked bluntly, catching even Sean off guard.

"Dude." He said with wide eyes.

"Where are your girlfriends when I need them?" You grumbled.

"Don't worry about our girlfriends, looks like your boyfriend is coming over."

At Felix's words, you whipped your head around, spotting Mr. Nestor making a beeline for you. "Hello Kjellberg, McLoughlin." He nodded to them, linking his arm with yours again.

"Hello, sir." Sean greeted him, a smirk on his face when he looked back to you. "Oh, Felix, do you hear that?"

"Yes! I do! I think that's the CEO, head of Tuber Marketing, Kathryn, calling for us!" Your other coworker sent you an overly obvious wink, taking off with his friend. You knew for a fact that Kathryn was currently in Britain on a business trip.

You were in the middle of glaring daggers in their backs when you felt a tug on your arm. "Do you want to dance?" Mr. Nestor asked you.

A yes slipped out before you could stop it, and he was dragging you on to the dance floor with a grin. As soon as you two reached the edge of the dance floor, a slower waltz started. You were prepared to leave, when his grip on you tightened, pulling you closer. His hand gripped yours as you two slowly swayed to the music.

"Mr. Nestor-" you started, but your dance partner cut you off.

"Ethan." He said softly, mouth just above your ear. "Think of me as a friend tonight, okay? Or, your date."

Due to Ethan's close proximity to you, your heart was thundering loudly in your ears, nearly drowning out his last, mumbled words. Your temple gently rested against his chest, you were tucked just underneath his chin. He had one warm hand on your hip and the other encapsulating your own. From your vantage point, you had a clear view of your interlocked hands. It was like they were made to fit like this. But they weren't. His painfully clear gear tattoo seemed to bore into your eyes until you couldn't take the guilt anymore.

"Ethan." You breathed out, looking up at him as he tilted his head down to listen to you.

His lips were just atoms away from yours, and you were frozen as he closed the gap. The kiss was gentle, blissful, and made you so happy. You didn't deserve it. This wasn't right.

Ripping yourself out of Ethan's embrace felt like you were ripping your own soul out of your body, and you knew you were leaving him in confusion as you fled the ballroom. But you needed to get out. For his sake.

The heels you were wearing didn't allow you great speed or stamina for running, but you kept going until it felt like your feet were going to bleed raw for days, then some more. Your physical pain was a welcome distraction from the acutely sharp stab in your heart. Ethan had feelings for you. The fact that he was your boss didn't even bother you, it was that that he had a tattoo. Someone lucky out there was waiting patiently with a gear with a heart in the center of it on their thumb. He was destined to be with them, to be happy with them. Not you. Your feelings didn't matter on a small or large scale, the Universe determined that you weren't going to have someone love you.

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