Turbulence [H.S. || A.U.]

Chapter 30

Fuck in every room, girl, I'll give you a tour
This ain't no surprise party

"This doesn't hurt as bad as you made it seem like it would." Harley mutters as I continue on with what I'm doing.

I roll my eyes in response. "You're fucking lying."

"Or maybe you're just a pussy." She retorts with a grin.

"I am no such thing!" I scoff playfully, acting like her words hurt my feelings. "I remember this hurting, sue me."

"I know a lawyer. Be careful what you wish for, baby." She quips with a grin as she looks down at me.

"You're the one who came up with this idea when I called you 'care bear' and said you're not technically a care bear without a tattoo on your sternum like me." I retort with a raised brow as I wipe her skin with a paper towel.

"Hey, at least it will be accurate now. And now we will be matching care bears." She shrugs. "And if I end up hating you, at least I will have gotten a cool ass butterfly tattoo out of it all."

I take my foot off of the pedal that controls the tattoo gun in my hand, flicking my gaze up to her eyes from the tattoo I am giving her on her sternum. "You could never hate me, baby. You like my dick too much."

"Your dick is nothing special." She replies with an eye roll.

"Well you sure do treat it like it is." I retort with a sly grin before continuing to work on her tattoo.

"You're so cocky."

"I prefer the term, narcissistic. It sounds better." I say simply.

"You're lucky I can't move right now, otherwise I would slap you upside the head."

I take my foot off of the pedal once again, sitting up straight and placing my hand over my heart. "What did I ever do to deserve you? So romantic." I quip sarcastically as I pout my bottom lip and bat my eyes.

"Just be a good boy and finish the tattoo."

I go along with it, for now. She has been in control a lot recently. I don't plan on letting her get used to that, though.

"All done." I say once I finish the tattoo. I wipe her skin one final time and put my equipment back down on my side table before taking off the latex gloves on my hands and tossing them into the waste bin.

As I do that, Harley seems to make her way off of the tattoo bench and over to the mirror on the wall to check out the tattoo.

I soon walk over to stand behind her and examine her reaction to her new ink.

"Look," I smile as I take my hands to grab the back collar of the t-shirt I am wearing to tug on it and pull it off. "We're matching now." I smile as I look at both of our butterfly tattoos.