Ink [h.s]

Black beauty

I stared at Drew for a few seconds, drinking in the information he had given me. Harry styles. The name fitted him for some odd reason. It was like that name had to be owned by him. And only him. It was strange though, because it made a shiver appear on my spine, making me shudder.

"Bella?" I shake my head, returning to reality.

"Sorry, was just thinking," I hear Drew laugh lightly. "Already day dreaming about the bad boy, aye." My eyes widen and I stumble for my words.

"W-what, no I wasnt!" Drew continues to chuckle while I stand here blushing tomato red.

Men.

I shake my head, and clear my throat. "And, what do you mean by 'bad boy'. Just because he has tattoos doesnt mean he is a bad boy." I find my self defending him, a guy I havent even spoken to before, but how can I not when I myself have tattoos. Just under my right breast. Its a short poem I wrote one time. When I was going through the passing of my father I didnt have anyone, except my thoughts. It read, 'Blaming my destiny on the world.' I thought it was something great to keep forever on my body, because it is true. I would rather blame my destiny on the world rather than my self. Even though I know I shouldnt.

"Woah there Bells, dont need to get your panties in a twist, it was just a metaphor." I roll my eyes and mutter 'douche' under my breath.

He gives me an innocent smile. "Sorry?" I shake my head with sigh. "Fine." Drew wraps his arms around me, giving me a tight squeeze then whispering in my hair. "That Harry kid is looking at us." My eyes widen and I let go of him. I turn around to meet his gaze.

Holy fucking shit. His eyes are just burning into my gaze and I feel as if my insides have catched on fire, burning and burning. And this fire just wont get put out. I turn back around to Drew, my voice caught in my throat. "Im gonna go take his order, just stay here." I nod my head, while bitting my lip. Out of habit.

Drew walks over to this Harry guy, and starts to talk to him. At one point, Harry looks over to me, and I flush.

Stop fucking doing that you jackass. I furrow my eyes when I see Drew walk over back to me with an annoyed expression on his face.

"What is it?" I ask nervously. He just rolls his eyes. "He wants you." I choke on my breath. "M-me? Why me?"

Drew just shrugs his shoulders, clearly annoyed. "I have no idea, he said if you dont go over there he will stay here all night, so Im suggesting you go over there now, 'cause I seriously do not want to see his ass here all day and all night. So if you please Bella." My lips are in a thin line and my brows furrow. What could he possibly want from me?

I nod my head, and walk over to him. Before I do anything I study how he writes carefully with his large hands, his inked arms flexing with every letter he writes. His black shirt fits him perfectly, defining every muscle in his back. Black fits him beautifuly. "I would say take a picture, because it last longer but I'd rather you not." He speaks, and god does his voice sound lucious. British, husky, raspy. My cheeks turn beat-red and I clear my throat.

"Um, my friend said you wanted me?" The mysterious man finally closes his book, inhaling a breath, and turning, facing me completely. His green eyes lock with mine, making my breath hitch. Holy mother of god help me.

His expression holds something, but I cant quite put my finger on it. He pinches his bottom lip with his pointer and index finger. "I enjoy your shows every night," He pauses looking at the small tattoo of a rose on my wrist. He smriks lightly, then brings his gaze back to my eyes. "And may I add, its quite the show to end my nights after working at the tattoo parlor." He rasps slowly, looking at me with a deep stare, licking his plump lips.

I bite my lip, inhaling oxygen through my nose. "Alright? Thank you but please tell me why do you need me?" I mumble quietly. He chuckles lightly, fully turning his body towards me. His knees touch my thighs, and I can feel the heat raidiating off of him. I step back, the heat rushing to my cheeks. "I see you every night perform, and I would like it if you came to work at my tattoo parlor." I furrow my brows, a little puzzled. Why would he want me to work there? I have no experiance in tattooing.

I look at Harry, his gaze burning as always. "I know what you're thinking, 'why in the hell would he want me to work there.' Well see Miss. Blue, I need a new singer for entertaiment, considering my latest one fucking walked out. Anyways what do you say love?" He huskly offers, exhaling a breath, while concentrating his eyes on me.

"I-I need to think about it. I still work here and it would be wrong-"

"Listen angel," Harry interupts me. "Since you need more time to think, I will come by tomorrow. See you then." With that, Harry is out of his chair, and has exited the cafè.

Angel. That word just keeps repeating in my head. I repeat it with my voice, trying it out. It sounded so different coming from him, so...dominant? Perhaps.

Who is he? Who is he exactly? Yes, I understand he has a name, but his name requires a story behind it. You can just feel it off of his body tempreture. Its a chilly- warm feeling at once, and I think knowing his forgotten past will help me.

Hes different. Way too different. The way his body is inked gives it all away. You dont just see everyday a casual guy walking around Concord, with ink all over his body, blanketing him up with nothing but black. I wanted to know him, and if rejecting him a few times will get at least something out of him, then so be it.

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-sarah

Twitter- @loverstylesxx