Her Inked Scars

patience

POV: Celeste

[3 hours later]

I do wish she would be a bit quieter.

I've been working closely on Nyoka for a few hours now and at first it was alright.

After she settled down and I started working on her skin she clearly tried to take a nap but as the adrenaline numbing the pain calmed down she began breathing deeply and now she's starting to whimper and moan.

She gets particularly loud whenever I go over an area that's already sensitive, biting her lip to try and subdue the quiet moans of pain that want to leave her.

I need to stop this. I'm going to get hard again if I don't find some way of distracting her.

"Is it alright if we talk for a bit?" I ask, not able to take this silence anymore.

We might have music playing in the background but no matter how much I try to focus on it whenever Nyoka makes a sound my ears instantly listen to her instead.

"Sure," Nyoka groans a little. "I thought you'd want quiet so that you can focus but if you're okay with having a conversation then it's okay with me. It will hopefully distract me."

"It's starting to get a little bit painful, huh?"

Nyoka mumbles in agreement as I continue adding detail to the simple line work I did first. She hisses in pain as she takes a sharp intake of breath, raising her arm to rest it over her eyes, whimpering as raising her arm tugs on the tender skin of her chest.

"Yeah, I suggest not lifting your arms up too high since it'll move the skin affected by the tattoo," I instruct her, accidentally slipping into my professional persona.

"Noted. Getting things from upper cabinets is going to be difficult for a while then?" Nyoka chuckles, carefully lowering her arm back to her side, wincing a bit.

"Let's talk to get your mind off this then," I suggest. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Nyoka asks I there's anything specific and stays silent once I give her free reign to talk and get anything off her mind.

I'm a tattoo artists so I spend a lot of time with people and being in their personal space. A lot like to have meaningful tattoos put onto them and they nearly always explain to me the significance of it. I'm used to listening to people's troubles and I want her to get everything off her chest.

"There is," Nyoka almost whispers so that I can barely hear her over the buzzing tattoo pen. "But I don't know if I really should."

"You don't have to talk about anything if you're not comfortable to," I insist. "Sorry, could you just move this arm a little?"

She obediently follows and shuffles her arm to the side to let me adjust to work on her side, whimpering as I return to working on another sensitive portion of her skin.

Nyoka sighs after settling down again, thoughts swirling behind her eyes as she goes back to silence. I can feel that she wants to say something but is too nervous to.

I don't push her to speak, giving her the time to build her own confidence to say what she wants to. She's a strong woman and she can speak about what she wants to. I'm not going to push her to say anything she's clearly anxious to talk about.

I'm proud enough that she could come to me and push through to be able to comfortably lay in front of me while I work on her delicate skin. I'm not going to do anything to make her go any further out of her comfort zone.

It takes a few minutes of silence before Nyoka finally begins to speak again, her voice quiet and slow as she takes deep steadying breaths to soothe the pain and calm herself as tears well in the corners of her eyes. I can't tell if those tears are from pain or distress making me pause from working on her to give her some space.

"Sorry if this is a bit trauma dumping on you but there is more of a reason why I wanted to cover up my old tattoo."

POV: Nyoka

Why am I telling her this?

This is so inappropriate. I'm just trauma dumping on her now.

She hasn't said or interrupted me as I ramble on about everything that's happened in my past. Everything that has made me so anxious to reveal or show off any part of my sensitive body.

"-He was horrible. At first everything was alright between us. We were high-school sweethearts and he was sweet and gentle but he really changed when we moved in together," I explain feeling tears welling in my eyes.

"He started calling out everything I did and I ended up only ever spending time in his house and with him. It was awful, especially when he started insulting me and ignoring everything I said," I mutter, my voice beginning to leave me. "He wouldn't even listen when I told him 'no' when he would try to touch me. After a few years, he just kept getting worse until the police ended up getting involved and, well, he's now in prison for what he did."

Why the hell am I telling her all this about him?

I'd rather forget about him. Eradicate him from my memory yet I'm here still talking about him to Celeste. I'm sure she doesn't want hear about all of this making me pause, focusing on the numb yet sharp stinging from the needle repeatedly piercing my already sensitive skin.

Celeste takes a moment before turning off the tattoo pen, taking it away from my skin and setting it down on the table of ink and tissues beside her. Her hand gently slides under my back, helping me sit up as I wince from the aches shooting through me from the part of me she's been working on for the past few hours.

My legs hang off the edge of the bed as Celeste stands up, her hand delicately holding my chin and lifting my face to look her in the eyes as tears well in my eyes.

"Just stop me if you feel uncomfortable, okay?" She whispers before suddenly pulling me into a comforting embrace, her hands rubbing my bare back.

I take a moment before sobbing into her chest, my arms wrapping right back around her, squeezing her as her hand moves to the back of my head, massaging through my hair to soothe me as I break down.

"It's so horrible what you had to go through," Celeste coos into my ear, "but you are such a wonderful and beautiful person despite all of that and the fact that you're here and you've gained the courage to do this makes you so much stronger than you think and I admire you so much for getting through all of that and getting away from it."

I only cry harder into her and she holds me tighter, squeezing me a little too tightly putting pressure my sensitive skin. She loosens her arms around me, releasing me enough to look into my eyes, her thumb rubbing away the salty streaks going down my cheeks.

"Nyoka, I swear you'll never have to deal with anyone like that again and if you do, just come to me," she says making me chuckle.

"That's a stupid thing to say," I grumble through tears, wiping them away myself.

"Well, I mean it," Celeste mumbles back, brushing my hair out of my face, a soft smile over her lips. "We don't have to keep going today if you don't want to."

I shake my head, assuring her that I'm alright. She helps me lay back down before continuing, constantly complimenting me and talking to me making me chuckle and giggle.

She's the only person in years that's managed to make me feel so comfortable with her and I never want it to stop.

Please, Celeste, don't abandon me.