Wings

trust

Melody

Terra was a bit odd, the way she had contemplated me before announcing that she had changed the artist for my tattoo. She didn’t seem like she was judging me, it was more the way an artist looks at an interesting piece of driftwood, like they were studying how to draw it. Strange looks aside, she seemed nice enough, and I trusted her with an ink gun. The symbol she added to the design seemed familiar somehow, but I decided to deal with that later.

I tugged my jacket off and sat down in the chair next to the artists’ station. I had worn a tank top with a low back for the purpose of the positioning of the tattoo, so as to avoid major awkwardness. Terra prepped the ink gun, and I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. Sure, I already had a good three tattoos, but nothing this elaborate. My parents were going to kill me, or would have if I weren’t over eighteen.

I tapped out a rhythm on my knee, and waited as Terra started on the design.