Falling Into Place (A Louis Tomlinson Fanfiction)

Chapter Two: Undiscovered

After my brief yet interesting lunch with Beth, I tucked the bartender's napkin into the bottom of my old leather wallet so it wouldn't misplaced. I was surprisingly fascinated by this charming boy and actually wanted to get to know him more in the future.

Once we returned to the shop, I settled myself back into my own little cubby and began to play some music while I waited for a customer to show up. Maybe today wasn't going to be a busy as usual.. There were no customers in the shop right now, so that may even give me the chance to pack up and head out earlier than usual.

Several hours passed until it was after 7:30 at night, and still no customers had ever shown up. What the hell was going on? We were always so busy, so this was out of the ordinary for us down at Black Lotus. I decided, that since my regular shift didn't end until we closed at 9:00, that I would take a nap for awhile until then, because it didn't seem that anyone would be coming in soon, and I wasn't going to get off early. I closed my eyes, and I was almost instantly asleep in my chair.

I jerked awake to my boss, James, shaking me to get up. I rubbed my eyes, completely dismissing the fact that I had now smeared my perfect cat-eye, and looked up at him, my mind still clouded with sleep as I sat up straighter, popping my back several times in the process. James laughed and said, "Hey your shift ended a little while ago if you wanna get ready and pack up to go home. Everyone's already left, so if you could lock up when you leave that'd be great." He gave me a smile as I nodded. He stepped out into the hall, and I was left alone as I heard the little bells on the front door jingle as he left to go home to his wife. I stretched my arms up to the ceiling, yawning as I checked the clock on the wall opposite me. It read 9:17, which means Elise would be expecting me home any minute, which wasn't going to happen.

I sent her a quick text telling her I would be running late, and I began to clean up my tattoo and piercing station. As I was wiping down the customers' chair which sat in the middle of my little room, I heard the bells on the front door jingle as someone opened it. "We're closed!" I called out. No reply. "Ugh," I mumbled to myself. I turned to go kick the walk-in out, and I screamed when I turned to see the mystery boy leaning in the doorway of my cubbie. I dropped the open bottle of cleanser I had been holding in my hand, causing it to spill all across the carpet. I sighed in defeat. I had been working for over 12 hours, and I was so tired, and now I really didn't feel like talking to mister hot pants and scrubbing the stench of chemicals out of the carpet. I turned my back to him to grab paper towels and said, quite pissed off, "Great. Now what do you want?" He laughed as I crouched on my knees, pressing the paper towels onto the cleanser, which had begun to seep into the carpet already. He bent down next to me, beginning to help me clean up the mess too, as he replied, "Well, I thought I could put any girl in good mood, including you by the conversation we had earlier, but I guess not."

I rolled my eyes, still not looking at him because I was mad and tired, but it was indeed hard to resist. After several minutes of silence, the mess was cleaned up, as best as it would get, and I said, "We're closed, and I really need to be getting home because I have been working my ass off for over 12 hours now and I really don't have time to talk to you. Sorry." I snapped as I tossed the soiled towels into the trash bin against the wall. He folded his arms across his chest as he said, "I'd like a tattoo, if you have time." I sighed and decided ahead of time that this boy would not let up, so instead of picking a battle I knew I would lose, I just gave in. 'Fine." He smiled and took a seat in the plush, leather chair of the room I used to tattoo and pierce customers. He closed his eyes as he thought of what design he wanted. I, once again, pulled on a pair of rubber gloves as I heard the familiar "click!" of the needle snapping into the tip of the gun. I pulled out my box of dye and began to unscrew the lids to all of the small bottles.