Blurred | Lines

Eleven

I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea what tattoo I was going to get or where, but here I was.

On the second level of the Pit, getting my first tattoo with Eric at my side.

I honestly didn't think I was afraid of needles, considering all the piercings I had. Needles were never a real problem for me. I think I just never had really wanted to mark my body without having a reason for why.

I snap out my thoughts as Eric takes my arm, pulling me inside the tattoo parlor. We're greeted by artista ans patrons walking around, along with the smell of ink and the pulsation music.

"We're going to my tattoo artist!" He yells over the blaring music, which helps me tune out my beating heart.

"I have to get a design, but..." I reply and he stops, before holding his forearms up.

"But what?" He quirks a brow in question to my hesitation.

"I don't know what to get!" I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.

At this, Eric leads me over to a wall of templates, his arm casually wrapped around my waist as if to keep me from running.

"You want something big or small?" He asks in my ear.

"Something meaningful. Something I won't regret in a couple of years." I mutter, unconsciously leaning into him.

"Close your eyes." He tells me, and then tucks my hair behind my ear. I obey, feeling him shift as he reached out to grab something.

Leaving his hand on my back, he leads me past a pair of curtains, and he taps my waist.

I flicker my eyes open, only to see a brown haired man, slightly balding, with a tattoo of a tribal dragon on his neck, among ink staining his skin in other places. He and Eric shake hands, I assume out of mutual respect.

Eric quickly hands him the template, before I can see it. I look curiously both of them, before looking at Eric.

"Bud, this is Lian. Lian, this is the man who did these." Eric tells me, pointing to his neck tattoos and then his forearms.

"I know who she is. I've seen her since she was a tough little tike. Max's pride and joy." Bud grins at me, and gestures to the chair. "Come on, little lady."

"She may be little, but she's got a hell of a right hook." Eric speaks, almost as if he's proud. "I'll be outside, Li."

He slips his hand from around my waist and I watch as he walks through the curtains, leaving me alone.

I sit in the chair, and Bud finally shows me the template.

It's the moon cycle, from new moon to new moon. I run my fingers over the design and Bud looks at me, grinning.

"This is a larger tattoo, intended to be on parts of the body such as the side, back, or thigh. I can do it smaller, but it'll take longer."

I sit up, as he takes a seat on his stool.

"I want the original size. On my thigh." I tell him, and he nods, chuckling.

"Good pick. Lots of flesh to cushion the pain. But your clothes..." He tells me. "Roll up your pant leg."

I roll onto my left side, so that the side of my thigh is easier to access. Then, I roll my right pant leg up to the top of my thigh, and Bud pins it back with a clip.

He pulls a fresh needle out of a pack, before wiping the skin of my thigh with a wipe that smelt of alcohol.

"Does your dad know you're getting a tattoo?" Bud questions.