Spaces Between Us

Four.

M A N I K

I was tired. My ears were tired and every fibre of my being was tired hearing the constant giggles coming out of her plump lips all along she lied on that hydraulic tattoo chair. God, why can't she just shut up and make this job easy for me, a bit?

"It's been 20 minutes. Are you done yet fixing your mind on what you gonna get tattooed?" I spat eyeing the design book which she kept turning pages for the hundredth time this night.

"Um.. they are all kinds of not my type, you know?" She stated grinning, her eyes still glued to the designs and I sighed for the nth time trying not to jab the needle right into her mouth.

"Exactly. That's the point!" She glanced at me. "This tattoo thing is not your type wholly. So why don't you just cut the crap and get done with whatever shit is there on your mind?" I glared trying to keep my volume low.

She lifted her back a little "I'm here for a tattoo. Genuinely." She made her eyes look innocent but I knew that innocence was only deceiving. "I just can't get my mind to fix anything." I tittered scornfully looking around.

"Of course, you can't." I repeated her, only with disgust on my lips.

"Wait." Her eyes lit up which snatched the peace out of me because I knew this lady can't be trusted. "Why don't you ink anything you like on me that you think would go with my personality?"

"What?" I squeaked narrowing my brows. Could she get any more unbelievable? "Have you even heard of the term tattoo regret?" She looked clueless hearing me. "And.. moreover no tattoo goes with your personality. In fact, you're a complete misfit with this place. So just leave." I shooed my hands. She stood up with annoyance in her eyes and I couldn't tell if this was for real.

"Listen you.." My eyes moved to the little index finger she placed between us pointing at me. "Overcoming a lot of anxiety and needle phobia I'm here after several hours of self pep-talk and if you think you're gonna ruin this thing for me with this arse of an attitude of yours, then let me tell you, I'm very much getting a tattoo done and that too by you, do you hear me? And it's definitely not my fault if you guys have all sorts of shitty designs over here, I mean.. who would want a shark or a child-eater devil right on her skin?" By the time she finished, she wasn't talking anymore rather yelling at me.

I thought maybe she genuinely wanted this and finding me here was a mere coincidence. I knew what sort of anxiety people had to overcome before pushing the door to this parlour open and I perceived her lunatic behaviour to be one of those stages, so.. I agreed.

15 minutes later.

"So, I think you should go with this one. It's small which means less of pain plus it kind of goes with your personality.." I sat by her chair where she was leaning back showing her a sketch I made.

I could tell she liked the shedding feather stencil sketch she held in her hands by the faint smile on her lips. I kept staring at her observing her reaction when she looked up at me nodding a yes, with a smile that wasn't a lie. I nodded getting up from my stool to get my kit of equipments whilst hearing her take several deep breaths.

"Where do you want to get it?" I asked opening the cap of the petroleum jelly to moisten her skin when she again seemed clueless. I doubted if this was again a genuine concept.

"Uh..where does it pain less?" She asked, scared.

"Excuse me?" I frowned. Is this just a joke?

"Um oh yes...here." She forwarded her right wrist to me tapping on the side with another hand.

I sat down on my stool grabbing her arm and rubbing the jelly on her skin professionally. With a tap on the switch near my hand, I lit up the huge surgical light over her head and she gaped up anxiously.