Chapter 3

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Harry

Fuck, I can't believe I am running so late. The radio interviews I had talking about our sold-out end of tour London dates took forever. I was supposed to meet the rest of the band and crew hours ago at a tattoo shop in east London. I've heard that the studio does some amazing work and I am hoping I am not too late. I decided to get a car to drop me off so I don't have to find parking.

I am just checking emails on my phone, when the driver says "Mr Styles, we are here". I thank him and get out of the car quickly; the freezing winter air hits me. The tattoo studio has a large glass window, with the name "Black Ink" written across it in old school gold lettering, it looks very hip and very Shoreditch. I grab hold of the door and push it, but it stops before I can get it fully open.

I realize a little too late, that it won't move as someone else is standing in the way, trying to leave as I enter. She is probably around my age, shorter than me, only coming up to just below my shoulders. She moves her head up, her eyes travelling over my body, suddenly she looks straight at me and I am startled by how beautiful she is. She has thick wavy auburn hair, full lips, pale skin covered in a light sprinkling of freckles and huge olive-green eyes. She looks like a walking pre-Raphaelite painting. As I take her in, I notice that although she is tiny, she is all curves and is wearing the cutest tight-fitting black dungarees and a shiny worn in pair of silver converse high tops. She is endearingly quirky.

I put out my hand and introduce myself, "Hi I am Harry" and as she takes it, I am sure I feel something between us, like a current, something I have never felt before. I am not sure what to do, thank god my best friend and band mate Mitch takes that moment to notice my arrival, stumble over and loudly greet and hug me.

I take it that the tattooing is done and the party has started as I look over and see the rest of my friends drinking and dancing (badly) with three guys I don't know, but judging by the large amount of tattoos on display, I can only assume work at the studio.

I look around for the beautiful girl and notice she is quietly trying to make her way through the door unnoticed when Mitch loudly announces ""Harry you have to meet Nessa, she is literally the coolest person I have met in ages and a pretty talented tattooist too".

The girl turns around slowly looking slightly alarmed. So, her name is Nessa, its different but its suits her, and she is a tattoo artist. I'm not going to lie that's a bit of a turn on, although I can't at this point see any tattoos. I would love to see her naked and discover if she has any ink on that soft milky white skin. I stop myself and think "what the fuck Harry, calm down and stop leering at her".

I reply "Well nice to meet you Nessa, literally the coolest person Mitch has met in ages", and hope I sound calmer than I feel.

I decide to quickly apologize for being so late and ask whether there is still time to get a tattoo. She looks a little like a deer caught in the headlights, I am not sure why, maybe she has somewhere to be, but answers in the affirmative, adding that she will be doing it as her brothers, the tattooed drunk guys from earlier are in no condition to work.

I am both relieved and a little shook. Relieved as I will get to spend some time getting to know her as she tattoos me, but worried as she clearly has a huge effect on me and it scares me. I decide to put any worries aside and go with it as I follow her to the back of the studio. I stop to say hi to my band and they introduce me to Nessa's brothers who look like Nordic gods-if I wasn't so taken with Nessa, I definitely wouldn't kick them out of bed.

I find her at the back getting her station ready and I am drawn to the pictures and memorabilia on the wall. I gather her surname is Black, hence the name of the shop, and that the family have been doing tattoos out of this studio for decades. She is also pretty well known and respected in the tattoo community, judging by all the awards she has received.

We chat about what I want to get done and I start to show here where I would like it placed. As I pull my pants down just a bit, to show where, I hear a soft gasp and her pupils dilate ever so slightly. It is the hottest sound and I love that I am having this effect on her. She recovers, slips some stylish large black framed glasses on and goes off to quickly sketch my chosen lyrics. I love what she has created, so she tells me to get comfortable on the tattoo bed and she starts to transfer the image before turning on the tattoo machine.

As the needle touches my skin, I feel the pain but to be truthful I am so distracted by Nessa that I can't think straight. I try to watch the rest of my band being idiots on the other side of the shop, but not even they distract me. I turn to her, so close to me and can't help but watch the way she slightly puckers her lips while she is concentrating, man I would love to taste those lips. As I stare at her, she suddenly looks up at me, lifts the needle, and I just look into her eyes, while she looks into mine, neither of us seem able to break the moment.

I get a huge fright when Nessa suddenly looks away, and says a little too loudly, "So tell me about your ink".

She is obviously trying to distract me and break the tension, so I answer her and start telling her about my over 50 tattoos, when I got them, why I got them and let's face it some are pretty ridiculous. I mean I tattooed the word BIG on my own big toe and a couple are because of lost bets. Soon she is wiping away tears of laughter and telling me similar funny stories she has heard from clients.

Quicker than I want she has finished and I get up to take a quick look in the mirror, it's small but you can see how talented she is.

"I love it Nessa, its perfect", to which she really smiles.

She starts to wrap it up and I decide straight away that I have to see her again. I start to say "Nessa, would you like...", when she interrupts me and says quickly "there we go! All done, you know how to do the after care. Great meeting you Harry. Good Luck with the rest of your tour", and then grabs her stuff, and walks out the door.

I am left standing there, wandering what just happened. I slowly recover and walk over to the rest of the group, to join in the festivities and maybe find out more about the girl who just rocked my world.

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