I swiftly brushed my black hair off of my face as I entered the warm shop.
Music was playing softly in the back ground, there were drawings on the walls. I smiled at the atmosphere. Most people hated tattoo shops.
"Can I help you" I snapped my head in the direction of the voice. A tall women with blue hair smiled.
"I have an appointment, under Blaze" she nodded, and closed the appointment book.
"Michael, your 5:30's here" she yelled, directing her voice towards the back rooms.
Not even a second later, a tall figure with bright red hair appeared. Holy shit, he was smoking.
He looked at the blue haired girl who nodded towards me. He looked slightly annoyed but his expression softened when he looked at me.
"Follow me" he ushered me to the back room, I had to take large steps to keep up with him.
Once we were behind the curtain, I sat down in the chair. I pulled on the sleeves of my maroon sweater, and got comfortable.
"So, what are you getting" his voice was deep, and oddly soothing.
"A semicolon, right here" I pointed behind my ear, moving my hair in the process.
He furrowed his eyebrows, but slowly nodded. I watched him sterilize his equipment and do some other small things. Every movement he made was memorizing.
"Can I ask what it means" my body went tense at the question. I knew someone would ask sometime. I wasn't quite ready for the question though.
"It means that at some point, when it seemed as if I was going to end it, I didn't" I spoke looking straight forward.
He wiped the area behind my ear when I spoke, but froze for a split second when the words fell out of my mouth.
"Wow" he spoke just above a whisper. Making me shiver. He sounded genuine, like he was amazed. I wasn't sure why, there were plenty of people out there who are going through what I am or have.
"Ready?" He asked turning the machine on. I glanced at him and nodded, making sure to take in this smile before turning back to my original position.
After what seemed like hours, he wiped the area one last time and admired his work.
"Ink suits you" he smile and helped me up. I felt a blush fall on my cheeks, but ignored it when he handed me the mirror.
It was perfectly placed, and incredibly well done.
"Jesus, this is perfect" I smiled and handed him the mirror.
He mumbled something inaudible, before I hugged him. He immediately wrapped his arms around me.
I came to notice, he wasn't covered in tattoos. He had a few but not many. Maybe he was in it for the art.
"Thank you" I pulled away and he nodded.
"Anytime" he smiled and walked out of the room, excepting me to follow.
He led me to the counter where the blue haired girl stood before. I took out the fifty dollar bill and handed it to him.
"What's your name" he blurts out as he put the money in the cash register. I giggled but responded.
"Blaze" his eyes lit up with amusement.
"That's sick" he spoke excitedly, my parents were hippies when I was born, still are, the story behind my name wasn't something shared often but Michael made me want to tell the embarrassing story.
"My parents were quite the stoners when they had me" he pause for a minute and then let out a low laugh.
"No way" he was now hunched over with tears running down his face. I couldn't help but notice how beautiful he looked.
"Shut up" I laughed as I said the words, not being serious.
After he calmed down, he handed me instructions on how to take care of the new tattoo.
I thanked him and turned to leave, but was stopped by his voice.
"Could I maybe, get your uh number? To check on how the tattoos doing" I nodded excitedly and slipped him a piece of paper with my number on it before rushing out the door.
---
hella pumped about this story
blazes tattoo on the side of top//
YOU ARE READING
SemiColon; {m.c}
Fanfiction"It means that at some point, when it seemed as if I was going to end it, I didn't"
