daddy's little angel - dark zarry

chapter five

my life long dream is to one day meet zayn malik and fuck him.

"So, you really want this?"

    "Yeah mate, on my arm."

    Zayn couldn't believe his ears. He wasn't a new artist, he'd been professionally tattooing since the age of eighteen and just recently opened his shop a little over a year. And people had asked him for strange things. A tattoo on top of a bald man's head, to make it appear his head had been cracked opened. The words, 'pussy eater,' tattooed on a young man's tongue. One woman even wanted eyes tattooed over her nipples, with red lips on top of her belly button. But this . . . this was just stupid.

    Louis and Zayn were first connected over Instagram and when he messaged him about the tattoo he wanted, Zayn honestly thought it was a joke. Looking back at the stencil, he was ashamed at how childish it looked. It was a stick figure on a skateboard, that looked as though a three year old drew it.

    "Why this?" the artist asked, looking back up in confusion. He was trying his hardest not to sound insulting, but seriously. What the fuck?

    Louis, who appeared unaffected, simply shrugged. "I like skateboarding."

    Both the artist and the curly haired boy behind him looked dumbfounded. "Louis's mum is going to kill him," Harry thought to himself. As he leaned back in his chair, the two teens next to him snickered. No one knew why Louis wanted a stick figure on his body for the rest of his life and Louis didn't really have an answer either. He kind of took the "why not?" approach.

    "Alright," Zayn responded, having no real reason to argue, as he stuck two black latex gloves over his hands. He unwrapped a disinfected wipe and began scrubbing the teen's forearm. "This shouldn't take longer than five . . . ten minutes, maybe. It's not detailed or that big, so I think it'll cost about twenty. Is that good?"

    "Yeah man, cool," Louis said, trying not to jump from his seat in enthusiasm. His first tattoo. The one thing he's been dreaming of since he was thirteen. The one thing his mother was going to kill him for.

    "Any of you got tattoos?" the artist asked, barely glancing over his shoulder at the group as he laid the stencil on Louis's arm, letting the ink absorb into the skin.

    "Nah, I'm still a minor, but he got his mum's name tattooed on his chest," Calvin answered, gesturing to the ginger boy beside him.

    Zayn nodded, removing the stencil to see the ink remaining on the teen's right arm. "What about you curly, you got any?"

    Harry looked up, slightly shocked he was spoken too. Usually he was ignored, just how he liked, so he didn't have to be ridiculed with harassing words.

    Before he could even stutter a response, Calvin slapped Harry hard on the back, making him flinch.

    "Please, fairy's too soft for that, aren't you?" Calvin teased, with a laugh.

    Harry bit his lip, looking back down. Not that he was very verbal, but he wasn't going to breakdown in front of some stranger.

    Zayn scrunched his eyebrows, but didn't question the comment, as he dipped the needle in a small container of black ink. Positioning himself in the right angle, he stared up at the blue eyed teen, needle pressed against him arm. "You ready?" he asked. Louis nodded, and the device was turned on.

    Louis scrunched his face in pain, when the buzzing needle glided on his arm, but then eased up after a moment or two. It didn't hurt as much as he expected, almost feeling like it was someone repeatedly poking you with a pin in a fast motion. Louis was at complete ease. Harry was a different story.