FADING IN YOUR ARMS

A groan ripped through me for the twenty-second time in a row as the ink needle went deep into my skin. It hurt so badly.

I adored the feeling.

There had to be other people who enjoyed pain as much as I did.

It felt like the right punishment for all my sins.

But wait, what were my sins…living to please?

My legs shook as the needle touched my skin again.

A distraction could help, or so I thought.

The guy sitting in front of me was a perfect piece for that.

The way he was so engrossed in what he was doing made me jealous.

Not like literally, it just felt…tightening seeing people do things they loved.

Like things they actually wanted to do.

For a tattoo artist though, he was different. No visible sketches covered his skin, unlike most artists who handled the inking themselves. 

But then again, I wouldn’t say…since he was wearing clothes.

The parts that were not visible might all be covered in ink for all I knew.

Oh, there…

It was peeking from the collar of his sky-blue shirt, a bird?

For someone drawing a bottle on her ankle, I wouldn’t call that weird. My gaze dropped down to see how far he'd gone, and what I saw only took me closer to regretting my decision.

It was going to freak a normal person the fuck out.

“How long have you been doing this?” I heard myself ask before I could stop myself.

It sounded so lame.

He looked up at me for a second without saying anything, then went back to what he was doing, his lips set in a thin line.

That was when I saw the features…from the angle he was sitting, I could see his unusually bright blue eyes and a straight nose that was rather crooked.

And those cheekbones, carefully sculpted like those of a god.

Just when I settled with the fact that he wasn’t going to answer me, he did.

“What are you driving at?” He asked and I instantly regretted ever asking in the first place.

He sounded pissed, like I wasn’t here to give him all my money.

“Tattooing… people?” I stuttered playfully, raising my eyebrows.

“Ever since I can remember?” And that was it.

“Oh,” I said. “For a tattooist, you barely have…” 

“Look…Miss Bronze, or whatever you call yourself,” his chest rose and fell like there was something else I had done. “You really should just shut up.”

My heart picked up and I wiped a bead of sweat I hadn't noticed from my forehead.

“I’m tryna draw you a goddamn tattoo and you’re here just blabbering shit.” He looked up at me, his blue eyes boring deep into mine.

“I’m sorry. I…didn’t realize that.” It was the only thing I could bring myself to say at that moment.

Clearly, starting a conversation wasn't the thing for me. Maybe shutting up altogether like I normally did was what worked for me.

My cheeks grew red with embarrassment, earning themselves another “dumbest part of my body” award.

Except for the sounds of honking cars, the shop was quiet while he sketched.

Nude women stared back at me through the portraits that were neatly hung on the walls of the small shop.

It was then I realized how much of sin and metal the shop reeked.

He was filling the bottle he sketched with paint when we all turned our heads to boots clanking loudly into the tattoo shop.

“What the fuck, Stacy?” He growled as the girl hugged him tight from behind.

Dropping the ink needle, he turned around to hug her back while he placed a kiss on her forehead. 

I stared like it was something I had never seen before, because honestly…it was something I’d never seen before.

“It’s nice to see you…you look different,” he said when she jumped into his arms for another hug.

“Well, thank you Otis, you look way better yourself,” she said.

The calm and soft voice of hers didn't go unnoticed of course.

Definitely why he was into her like that, and then her looks. They instantly made me self conscious.

“So I have to go see my friends outside town real quick tonight,” she pushed a strand of hair from her face. “Will you be able to do something for me now?”

Her face turned toward me before she looked back at him, like she just looked at a pile of rubbish.

My hands balled into fists I hoped she didn't see.

“You know you never have to ask with me,” he walked to where he'd dropped the needle and took it.

“Gimme a minute, Bronze,” he said to me.

I nodded, my heart thumping loud with waves of embarrassment washing over me.

Stacy was already lying on the tattoo bed, while he towered above her.

They spoke while he inked on her, and I couldn't believe it was the same guy who had been cold and arrogant to me just a few minutes ago.

The way he was with her was so much different from the way he had treated me.

It went on for over thirty minutes, and I was so close to going nuts for each minute that passed.

I looked outside through the window and thought of maybe going for a walk, before I decided against it.

I would just get lost.

When my phone rang and mom appeared on the screen, I couldn't be more happier.

“Hey, where are you at” she asked and I reduced my ridiculously loud volume when I noticed the whole place was quieter.

Stacy was peering from where she lay with her face down at me.

“Ugh, I came to get something…but I’ll be heading back now,” I said into the phone, very self-aware now that I could feel Stacy’s eyes on me.

She was a girl like me, my idiocy knew no bounds like that.

“Well, you better hurry…almost time for dinner” she said and I nodded even though it was obvious she couldn’t see me.

The call ended and I stood up almost immediately while Otis strolled up to meet me.

“I’ll be leaving,” I whispered and he nodded.

Grabbing my jacket from where I had placed it, I ran out.

My legs took off so fast that I almost collided with someone who was about to come in.

“Sorry,” I muttered with my head down.

The door slammed shut behind me and I walked faster than a normal person should.

I didn’t stop even when I heard him calling “Bronze!” behind me repeatedly.