Vigilante | H.S.

75 | Parlour

Diana De Angelais

Rainberry.

What a strange name for a tattoo parlour.

After the slightly dramatic meltdown I had the other morning, after telling all of those things to Harry, strangely, I felt better than I ever had before.

It was refreshing, finally being able to tell the things that I had kept locked away in a safe place somewhere deep in my mind, to someone who listened, someone who cared and allowed me to let those things go when I was ready, instead of pressuring me to talk.

I didn't even mean to say all of that, one thing led to another, and I ended up just spilling everything that had been trying to crawl out of that dark place in my mind for the past almost seven months.

Harry wanted to do something nice with me, where we could just relax for a few hours instead of constantly worrying about what was about to happen and where people were, and who their next targets were.

He'd spent every day with me since then, he hadn't gone to work in almost a week and instead spend all day doing absolutely nothing with me.

But it was so refreshing because I felt so normal, like we were just living normal boring lives for the first time in the longest time. We cooked and ate together, drank wine and stargazed on his balcony, even though it was harder to see the stars on summer nights since the sun was still up so late.

He made nothing feel like the most incredible thing in the world.

I never thought I could particularly enjoy doing nothing at all, I liked to be occupied and have distractions to make time pass quicker. But I never wanted time to pass fast when I was with Harry because I never wanted to take a single second with him for granted.

After sleeping in until just before noon this morning, we got up and showered together and then spent the whole day again, doing nothing with each other. But sometimes all I wanted to do was nothing with him.

The sun was just nearly setting, the sky was that pretty blend of purples and oranges that added a golden him to Harry's face, he seemed like he was sparkling.

"It can't be hygienic to bring a cat to a place like this," I had Donut in my arms, his head was resting comfortably on my shoulder, and I swore he was nibbling on my hair, or just playing with it.

Harry and I were at Zayn's tattoo parlour, somewhere I had heard about, but somewhere I had never been. I was sure it was unsanitary to bring an animal into a tattoo parlour.

"Zayn said it was fine" Harry shrugged it off, his hand on the small of my back as he reached to push the door open with his other hand, the bell pinged to signal us entering.

"I know but it feels strange, cats shouldn't be around people getting pierced and tattooed" I glanced up to him as he closed the door behind us, the place smelt so clean, almost like a hospital.

"We're not going to be around those people," Harry told me, starting to walk us further into the building.

"How?" I furrowed my eyebrows, not understanding what he meant, "Where are we going to be?"

"You'll see" he smirked down at me, sliding his arm around my waist to rest his hand on my hip.

"I'm still waiting for the day you actually answer a question that I ask you" I rolled my eyes playfully, since day two of knowing him he had never properly answered a question that I asked him.

As we walked further into the building, I started to look around more. The walls were all exposed bricks, decorated with vinyls, frames with incredible artwork inside them, and vines falling from the ceiling. The floors were dark wood and I could hear the scuffing of Harry's boots beside me. The whole place was dark, the only lighting in the front entrance was the bright news signs decorating the walls too.