You'd given up on your soulmate just after graduating high school. Unlike your friends when you all turned sixteen, you never received a message or response to your messages. You were deemed one of the few who simply didn't have a destined mate; you could date and marry someone else who was like you but the chances of it working out were slim. The universe had dealt you a depressing hand.

Some cosmic rules applied if you were lucky enough to have a mate. You could write any message in any media on your body and it would appear on your partner; however personal information, names, birthdays and things of that nature would show up as blank spaces in your text. Meeting your soulmate could not be arranged, fate would determine when your paths crossed.

Now an art major you had occasionally taken to painting or doodling on yourself when bored or depressed. Recently you had a bit of a setback. Your best friend had finally stumbled into her mate. He was a chef and when you both walked into Baratie she knew he was there. You wondered what that must have felt like. She was in a complete daze the moment her big brown eyes fell upon the open kitchen.

The cook with shaggy blond hair glanced up noticing the redhead next to you glaring at him. Recipes scrolled down their forearms along with other goofy notes they'd shared in different colored ink. It was an intense moment to witness and your stomach almost couldn't handle it. He pushed through the swinging doors of the kitchen and strolled right up to Nami. suppressing the sudden urge to flee you planted your feet firmly and watched the scene unfold.
You thought you'd seen Nami happy before, but nothing compared to the smile she wore now.

"Sanji." He breathed, eyes never leaving hers.

As you thought initially...this moment was too intimate. Needing to find relief for your churning stomach you left.

Nami didn't even notice you'd gone until moments later. Feeling terrible about basically ditching you she sent a deluge of apology texts. She knew anything related to soulmates was a sensitive subject for you.

Honestly, you were happy for her. She deserved all the love and happiness Sanji would give her. But seeing it all happen still stung.

So, for nearly a week you holed up in your apartment feeling sorry for yourself. No paint, no drawing just sulking. All the feelings from high school flooded back. People whispering and pitying you for being different.

On the fifth day, you awoke following your normal morning routine, this time alcohol still hazing your brain. Leaving a trail of clothes from the bedroom to the bathroom you stepped into the tub and let the warm water wake your stiff muscles. Finally feeling the static start to clear you squeezed some shower gel into your bath puff, squealing when you caught a glimpse of something blue on your forearm. Dropping the puff to run a trembling hand over the colored patch of skin you noticed an identical mark on the other arm.

Two four-inch aqua stars glared back at you as you sat wrapped in a towel on your bed. There was no way you'd gone out and gotten a tattoo much less two without remembering, no matter how drunk you'd been; not to mention they didn't hurt.

Could it be?

Prepared to shake away the thought you were distracted by a strange tightness in your chest. Emotions that felt strong but somehow foreign flooded your senses. Anxiety and worry swirled with guilt clenching your heart. These feelings were definitely not yours.

A small line formed on the inside of your wrist sending your heart into hyperdrive. The stranger's emotions continued to torment you until the sentence was completed, tapering off into nothingness.

"Why did you stop painting?" each letter scrolled out hastily in bold black ink.

Had they been watching all this time simultaneously tapping into your feelings and never once saying a thing? Quickly you fumbled through your art supplies for a ballpoint.

Anger and embarrassment fueled your response, "You've been ignoring me?"

Impatiently you tapped the blue pen against your thigh waiting to see what they had to say.

"Your art started showing up a month ago." Guilt and regret pooled in your chest, "I'm sorry I didn't know what to say. They always seemed forlorn and harrowing but when finished you were always calm." sincerity washed over you.

"What's with the stars?" you asked awkwardly, unsure of what to say to their explanation.

"You draw stars a lot and that shade of blue is one you frequent. I thought you would like it." Your lips bent involuntarily at the fondness expressed in that sentence.

All those years spent envying your friends faded as you glared at your left arm.

"I'm not still drunk?" you scrolled under their last response.
"And I'm not dreaming." the reply was immediate.

A giddy chuckle bubbled up your throat making your cheeks flush. Who were you, giggling over something a complete stranger said. Was this how everyone felt contacting their soulmate?

____________

"I remember learning in middle school that sometimes the soulmate bond is latent if there's an age gap," Usopp muttered inspecting the blue star on your right forearm.
"I suppose that would make sense," Nami added.
"It still amazes me that this is permanent. He went through all the pain and you get to have these marks forever." Usopp prattled.

You flushed having not thought of it that way before.

"Are you excited to meet them?" Nami questioned deepening your blush.
"I - I suppose I'll be ready when fate decides." You stammered.
"Hmm that might be a problem," Usopp noted as you tugged your arm away.
"She is a bit awkward huh," Nami confirmed.
"S-hut up. It's just talking to new people is difficult." you absentmindedly dragged your fingers over the star tattoo Usopp had been admiring, "You don't think I'll be too shy to speak to them?"
"Meeting your mate is different." Usopp tapped his finger to his chin.
"Perhaps it won't be an issue." Nami stroked your hair, "Now you're able to communicate so when you meet they won't technically be a stranger."
"I hope you're right."

______________

Some weeks had passed, you spoke to your soulmate as often as possible. Each conversation drawing you closer and closer. You also learned some things, they are male and have a few piercings. He also owned his own garage where he repaired and built all sorts of vehicles; land, sea, and air. Not to mention his affinity for expressing how "super" things were when he was excited or approving.

Every time you wrote to each other you couldn't help but relish in the giddy flutter of your heart. You shared childhood secrets and trauma as did he. There was nothing you kept from each other with the exception of the silly rules attached to your connection.

Finally, you had finished multiple projects and exams that had tapered your communication with your mate. So, you decided for the first time since you began speaking to paint for him.

Lining the living room floor with a tarp you carefully chose colors and squeezed them out directly on the blue plastic. The full-length mirror from your room was propped against a chair across from you allowing you to easily view your work. Without any real plan, you dipped your fingers into different colors and began swirling them across your bare chest. At first, you tried to focus on what you wanted to pass through the bond; something warm, fond and apologetic for your absence, but a few minutes in you lost yourself in the deliberate strokes of the colors you applied.

Wet paint dripped down your wrist as your fingers traced your shoulder stretching up your neck. The cool tones of blue and green that covered your torso lightened to warmer yellows, pinks and oranges as they rose passed your collar like flames licking your jawline. You let your hands drop to your lap as you almost breathlessly recovered from the near two hours spent painting the sunset like scene. Chuckling at yourself for admittedly going overboard you gazed at yourself in the mirror. The poor guy would have to walk around with this for the next twenty-four hours.

Before you could rise and head for the shower an ever familiar and very welcome flutter exploded through your painted chest. You felt the pen as if it were actually pressed to your thigh just above your knee.

"That was ...beautiful."

A broad smile bent your lips, "Thank you. It was meant as an apology for being so busy lately. But I'm afraid it came out a little too feminine."

"On the contrary this canvas is pretty masculine. It's a shame you have to wash it off. I may have to go shirtless tomorrow."

Pride spilled through the bond as his words appeared.

"It's still cold out. You'll get yourself sick!" you scolded.

"I'm glad you're my soulmate."

The next day you sat outside the campus studio waiting to meet a friend you hadn't seen in a while to have lunch. The discontent was visible on his face from a distance as he muttered curses to himself dragging tattooed fingers through his wild locks. You noticed new marks on the curve of his forearms peeking out of his rolled-up sleeves.

"New tattoos?" You questioned as he approached dropping his hand from his hair to adjust his shoulder strap.

"He's doing this shit to piss me off I swear." The redhead sneered.

Kid was the only person you ever met that didn't seem to get along with his mate, though you'd catch him absentmindedly smirking at some message the other male had left him.

"Mine got tattoos also." You chimed about to scrunch up your sleeves.

"Why'd I get stuck with such an asshole? Look at this F/N." He tugged his collar down revealing more tribal-like flames, completely brushing passed your statement.

"Sorry. Have you asked him to stop? Or at least consult you first?"

A heavy groan left the male at your side drawing your gaze back up to his now flushed face as he averted his tawny eyes.

"It's his way of making sure people know." He muttered.

Your cheeks flushed at his adoring tone. You knew he secretly liked it.

"Anyway," he coughed, "My boss has become an insufferable mushy mess."

"Mushy?" you echoed.

"Ugh. He recently made contact with his soulmate and he won't shut the fuck up about her." he sneered, "She also paints all over him so the rest of us are forced to look at it all the time."

Your heart skipped a beat, "She paints on him?"

"Oh sorry. I know you do that artsy shit too. I mean they're good paintings, but I don't want to look at that pervert shamelessly flaunting his soulmate's messages."

"Kid." You breathed stopping in your tracks.

"What?" The redhead whipped around to face you.

"T-take me to your work." It came out more as a demand than a request.

"What?" He stepped toward you.

"I- I ... I ..."

"F/N, spit it out. What's wrong with you?"

You swallowed hard trying to gather your words, "I think... those paintings... I mean... they might be mine?"

Kid gawked at you for a moment shifting his weight as he processed your staggered statement. Swiftly he snatched you into his side and marched off in the direction you had both come. He practically threw you into the front seat of his beat-up pickup. You were too shocked for quick movements, both surprised by what was about to happen and Kid's determination.

The entire drive was a blur, you didn't even remember it.

"Are you ready?" Kid asked.

"N-no." you breathed unable to stop yourself from moving toward the door.

"It might not be him, you don't need to be so nervous."

"It's him," you whispered catching sight of the bluette through the bay window of the shop.

A sense of knowing washed over you pushing you forward against your screaming brain and pounding heart. The man in question's movements slowed as you approached the building leaving Kid behind. Your own art stared back at you, lapping up his throat toward his defined chin. Three silver studs anchored each side of the bridge of his nose. Black Ray Bans swept his azure locks out of his face leaving a few strands to dangle framing onyx eyes that never left your face.

Before you knew it you were standing a foot apart, eyes searching over each other's forms taking in the incredibly indescribable surreal moment. Suddenly the intensity dropped ebbing back into an anxious shyness that pulled your face to the left, drawing your hands up to nervously shield yourself. Warm calloused fingers incased your wrists parting your cover.

"Franky." his gruff voice rang in your ears with the pleasantness of a tinkling bell.

"F-f/N." you weakly replied.

Goosebumps rippled across your flesh as he pulled you into an embrace burying his nose in your hair.

"It's super to finally meet you," he said in a whispered chuckle.

A/N this was a request by NdragonEyes

I took this in a different route... hope you like it. I also might have to do a second chapter for this. It was my longest one shot at 2199 words.