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 bad.

I adored the feeling.

They had to be other people out there, who enjoyed pain as much as I did.

It had this feeling it gave me the right punishment for all of my sins.

Cause in the end, we're all just an army of broken hearts, begging for something to feel.

But still, damn. It burned.

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.

For a tattooist he was different, no ink here and there on his skin like most tattoo artists did.

But then again I wouldn’t say, since he was putting on 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 went down to see how far he'd gone, the image looked weird as hell to me. 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 quietly went back to what he was doing.

That’s 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 on the fact that he wasn’t going to answer me, he did.

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

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

“Tattooing people?” I asked him jokingly, raising my eyebrows.

“Ever since I can remember” And that was the only thing he said before he went back to concentrating on my ankle.

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

“Look. Miss Bronze, or whatever you call yourself, you really should just shut up” he said and I instantly felt sweat bead on my forehead.

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

“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing I could bring myself to say at this 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, they never disappointed me.

Dumb, stupid cheeks.

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

My gaze fell on the paintings hung on the walls, nude women stared back at me through the photos. The tattoo shop reeked of metal and sin, I hadn’t noticed when I first walked in.

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 squealed 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.

“Oh my Lord, it’s so good to see you…you look so different” he said while placing a kiss on her forehead yet again.

“Well thank you Otis, you look way better yourself,” she said, and the calm soft voice didn't go unnoticed of course.

Maybe that’s why he was into her like that.

Stacy was so beautiful, her looks made me instantly self-conscious.

“So I have to go see my friends outside town real quick tonight” she said and pushed a strand of hair from her face.

“Will you be able to do something for me now?” She asked and he only smiled broadly, I could see his thirty-two teeth.

“You know you never have to ask with me girl” he said and grabbed his needle from where he'd dropped it close to me.

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

I nodded, my heart thumping loud with embarrassment.

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

They chatted while he inked on her. I couldn't believe it was the same guy who was 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 interacted with me.

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

Then my phone rang, it was Mom.

Phew.

“Hey girl, where are you at” she asked and I reduced my volume when I noticed the whole place was quieter and Stacy was looking at me.

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

She was a girl like me. My idiocy probably knew no bounds.

“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, Otis strolled up to meet me.

“I’ll be leaving” I told him 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.