A/N: Collab between aliceupsidedown and Reyaa. This is a three part story.
Summary:Axel is a bored tattoo artist that is sick of inking hello kitties. He wants a challenge and boy, does he get one. After scratching each tattoo parlor of his list, Roxas goes to the last and finds what he needs at Bloody Ink's. Rated M on ffnet.
Axel
"Welcome to Bloody Ink's! Are you absolutely certain you wish to scar your impeccable looking skin now and forevermore? You can sit on that comfortable couch over there and think about it another few minutes. Seriously, tattoos hurt, take it from me, my boss forced me to get one." Puffing out my cigarette smoke through a chuckle, I dropped my head back on my shoulders, planting my feet on the kitchen table before shouting...
"Stop scaring the fucking customers Demyx!" A beat of silence.
"Yes boss." And then I tuned him out because he was telling whoever wanted a tattoo what the rules were, the costs and how long it would take. Thank fucking god I'd found that silly piercer who'd somehow become my obnoxiously loud best friend. He worked the counter like no other... Except when someone wanted a tattoo. He was against tattoos. It didn't really make sense, but Demyx generally didn't make sense, so it was all good.
I was hiding in the back of the store in our private little kitchen; It was cozy and lately I'd been spending most of my working hours in here as I was so very tired of inking the ridiculous meaningless tattoo on skin that belonged to girls that were definitely under-aged but had somehow managed to forge their parents signature. Hello kitty, Powerpuff girls, hearts, boyfriend's names that then a month later needed to be covered up with a rose.
Which then made me very grateful for Larxene as she had just gotten her tattoo license and was still all kinds of motivated to do this shit. I wish I was nineteen again. Broke, but seeing the world in a way only a naive, inexperienced person could. She claimed she was very aware and mature. Bullshit, to both really. The point was that she had no issue taking over the tattoo jobs since I was just depressed with the lack of originality and creativity in people nowadays.
Tattoos with no meaning hurt my very soul. It hurt because then Demyx was right. Why scar your skin if it doesn't mean shit to you? Plus, holding up a conversation with a teeth-trembling-in-fear cheerleader wasn't something I seemed to have the patience for any longer while drilling the gun into her skin. Where were all those gang members? The police had to stop taking away my customers with actual potential, it simply wasn't fair.
"Boss." Head still hanging back over the chair, I opened one eye and pouted up at Demyx who was looming over me, hands propped up onto his hips as he stared down at me with one eyebrow raised, smirk on his lips.
"Demyx..." I whined. He sighed, pushing me back up in my chair as he gave me a hug that I didn't decline. I held onto the forearm beneath my chin, pouting still.
He patted my head in sympathy, "Sorry. Another Hello Kitty. It'll be okay, Axel... With some luck the bikers will be back in the region this summer." Ah... The bikers. How I missed them.
"Thank you, Dem, you always know just what to say to cheer me back up." Patting his arm to tell him mutely I was fine, he retrieved it and then sat down beside me.
"Larxene is taking her on." I grimaced, not wanting to talk about it. "It pays the bills, kinda what you need to focus on." A pause, "Why don't you try piercing for a while?" He asked excitedly. He'd been trying to teach me how to work the needle ever since I'd hired him.
"No. I'm not shoving a needle through someone's skin." I clipped out.
"Right, because poking them with it is much less horrible."
Rolling my eyes, I lit up another cigarette, content on just brooding the rest of the day. Demyx got the hint as he reached out to pull the cigarette from my lips, crushing it under his foot before he exited the private kitchen, back into the reception area of the store so he could either breathe down Larxene's neck or receive some more customers. Waiting for him to close the door, I then reached out and lit a new cigarette again. Smoking became twice as expensive around Demyx. I basked somewhat happily in the silence that the kitchen offered me, clearing my mind so I could maybe try and catch a nap.
It wasn't a long couple of minutes before I groaned at the ceiling as here we went again... "Welcome to Bloody Ink's! Are you absolutely certain you wish to scar your impeccable looking skin now and forevermore? You can sit on that comfortable couch over there and think about it another few minutes. Seriously, tattoos hurt, take it from me, my boss forced me to get one."
How the hell did Demyx make sense out of these receipts? He better not die on me, I'd lose the store, what with the system he'd come up with by himself to keep track of customers. None could decipher this, surely... A scared little squeak pulled me out of my staring contest and then grinned at Demyx's gentle voice, reassuring the girl in his chair behind the curtain that everything was going to be absolutely fine and that she wouldn't feel a thing. Such a liar. She would definitely feel it.
Giving up on the receipt, I slammed it down onto the counter and sat down on the stool, staring at the picture wall filled with tattoo designs on my right, not being able to stop myself from smiling some as I heard the comforting humming sound of the tattoo gun at the work in Larxene's working area. The girl from two days earlier hadn't handled the pain all to well and Larxene had suggested she come back today to finish up her tattoo. Which meant both my employees were busy and I had to sit and warm the reception desk in case anyone came in.
I'd had the time to remember each customers name on the top row of the displayed tattoos on the picture wall before the little bell by the store entrance told me someone needed my attention. Tearing my eyes away from the beautiful ink I'd once been honored to draw onto these peoples skins, I did a double take and then smiled a bit as Zexion made his way into the store.
"It's been ages." I said instead of a hello.
He simple nodded and looked around my shop before coming to a stop in front of the counter. "It's nice to see you again, Axel." He grinned, finally putting his hand out to shake mine. We'd had the same mentor. Xigbar had taught me and Zexion how to tattoo like the best back when we'd been nineteen or something. We'd skipped off on our own, ending up with me having my store on one side of Hollow Bastion and Zexion on the other side of the city. Building a business was tricky and a lot of work so I wasn't surprised we'd lost contact shortly after having gone on our separate ways.
Grasping hands, we shook, and I gave him a warm smile, "So, how can I help you? Please tell me you got some skin left that you'll allow me to fucking ink because shit..." I shook my head, knowing he'd understand my defeated sigh. Stupid meaningless tattoos without originality.
"As a matter of fact...Nah, some other time." He shrugged, and leaned against the counter staring at the picture wall, grimacing with me as he saw as many meaningless images as I did. "I came by with a warning to my fellow tattoo artist." Flicking his hair out of his face, he looked me in the eye. "Have you heard about the blonde?"
I frowned, shaking my head, "I haven't. What about the blonde?" I asked curiously. He'd come to warn me? That was new to me... And rare in general. It meant scary customer and making Zexion so much as frown weirdly at you was hard. He was a good guy and the last time I'd seen him was when he'd needed to get a tattoo done somewhere on this blank spot on his arm. Which was nearly five years ago. Xigbar and myself were the only ones allowed to ink Zexion as he and Xigbar were the only ones allowed to touch me with their guns. No question about it, simple as that. We trusted nobody fucking else.
Laughing out loud Zexion motioned me closer so he wasn't speaking loud enough for everyone to hear him. I leaned closer, intrigued by this strange behavior.
"So, the other day, I'm out and about running errands. You know, checking on the local ink and gun guys, checking to see if they have anything new, when apparently, this guy with spiky blonde hair came into my shop. I'm sorry I missed his original tantrum, but it was enough to put the hair up on Saix's back. Like, the guy was scared shitless or at least annoyed to high heaven. The blonde insisted, like demanded that only the owner, the original artist, be the one to ink him. And since I wasn't around, he threw a fit and left." Zexion shrugged his shoulders and shook his head at the strange behavior. "Come to find out, he's been in and out of tattoo parlors all week, checking out the ink styles and demanding certain artists. And it's not like he's got that many choices. There's you, me, and about two other decent artists in town. And guess who's next on his list?"
"Shit." I muttered. When Zexion frowned, I shrugged, "Well, I just hope I'm behind the counter and not Demyx."
"Demyx?" He asked, eyebrow raised. I opened my mouth to tell, but smiled as the very man himself appeared from behind the curtain, scratching his hair as he sighed. He was still wearing the plastic gloves, bloody needle in hand as he sighed, shaking his head.
"Another fainter." He announced before noticing Zexion. He offered him a smile and a needle wielding wave before moving behind the counter so he could disappear into the kitchen and find the fainted customer a cookie.
"My piercer." I told Zexion.
He nodded, looking a little bemused. "Where the fuck did you find him?"
I raised an eyebrow, smiling slowly as I leaned back into the stool. Oh, I see... "He's a treasure. Be nice to him."
Scoffing, he tucked his hair behind his ear. "When have I ever not been nice?" He winked and gave me a small wave before heading out the door. Chuckling, I slid off the stool and then made my way into the kitchen, checking to see if Demyx needed any help getting the customer back to consciousness. The moment I stepped inside, Demyx slammed the door shut behind me and I quickly plastered myself up against it, grimacing down at the needle he was pointing at me.
"Has he done any jail time?" Grinning, yet still fearing the sharp needle, I shook my head, "Does he do any drugs?" I shook my head again, "Have you ever had sex with him?" God no. I wrinkled my nose and Demyx got the answer out of that. Smiling, he stepped away, throwing the needle in the bin beside the door. "Splendid." He waggled his eyebrows before pushing me out of the way, cookie in hand so he could go take care of his fainter. Shaking my head in amusement, I sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and then... Well, that blonde had to come by soon because something was seriously wrong if Demyx's love life was the most adventurous thing I'd experienced today.
Roxas
I scowled at my reflection. The 'Closed' sign that hung in the window was taunting me, I just knew it. If I could get my hands on the guy who'd hung it in the window, I'd wring his chicken shit neck happily. Deep breath. The sign was not at fault. No, they'd obviously sucked since they'd gone out of business, so I should be relieved. And now I was. I only wanted the best to do the task I needed them to do. Unable to keep myself from at least spitting on the sidewalk in front of the abandoned building, I spun around and headed back to my car. I think I had one more location on my list to check out. And if that place proved bust, then I'd head back to that one guys place and wait around to meet the fucking owner.
I would have stuck around if that blue haired freak hadn't put such a bad taste in my mouth. Why oh, why was I forced over and over to deal with annoying underlings, or people who were just so stupid it hurt? More deep breaths, Roxas. Remember what your counselor said. The world is not out to get you and reacting that way to every situation was going to come back and bite me in the ass. Besides. Until I got rejected by the last tattoo parlor, I should just take a chill pill and think positive. Yup, thinking positive.
This was important to me though. I sighed and climbed into my car, rolling my shoulders before putting the key in the ignition. Wasn't I allowed to get worked up when it was something important? Fingering the sketch in my pocket, I winced at what I'd heard all morning. 'It's an interesting design, but it has too many lines' or 'Yeah, I could totally do that. It'd be the hardest thing I've ever done, but I think I could do it'. You THINK you could do it? I didn't want some fucking novice staining my skin! Did they think it wasn't permanent or something? Internal facepalm. That guy had been a fucking moron. Shivering at the idea that he was even licensed in this country I clicked my blinker on and checked the map before heading south.
That one artist though...Zexion? I think his name was? His shit was impressive. He was the first artist I'd looked at and I hadn't shuddered at the very idea of him coming near me with a needle. The wall of pictures was organized and easy to spot the different levels of difficulty. I'd thought that the tall guy with the X shaped scar on his face was the artist, but no, he was just some regular Hello Kitty tattoo slave.
No, of course Zexion hadn't been there and no, they didn't know when he'd be back. I may or may not have left a horrible impression when I left. Tilting my head to the side and thinking about it, I probably should not have called him a cheap sack of shit and thrown the clipboard at the door. No, not one of my finer moments.
"Fucking asshole!" I screamed out at my steering wheel, laying on my horn before trying to turn into the parking lot again. Even knowing that the other driver couldn't possibly hear me, just the fact that I was able to yell it out and not have someone tell me to control myself or 'calm down' helped ease my tension. 'Calm down'. The worst phrase in the entire world and yet people still couldn't stop telling me to do it. 'Calm down, Roxas.' Was the phrase most commonly uttered at me. And guess what? Not really the best thing to say to me when I have a legitimate reason to flip shit. Yeah, really not helping. I pulled into the parking space and killed the engine. Please. Please let this be the place that I need. I couldn't hold it together much longer.
Bloody Ink? Interesting name. It struck a chord with me for some reason. I pushed open the door and heard the little bell ding above me. I was greeted by a clean and bright room. Thank god. I didn't need Hepatitis to go along with my tattoo. Glancing quickly at the picture wall, I was pleased to see the same level of inking that I'd seen at that other place. Good. Hope stirred.
"Welcome to Bloody Ink's!" I heard a jolly sounding voice. Looking over to the counter my eyes landed on a blond, hair sticking up quite messily, but clearly styled, into a pretty neat mohawk... Or something. Lip pierced, nose pierced, eyebrow pierced. Big welcoming smile, "If you're here for a a tattoo..." He pointed at the couch on my right, "Are you absolutely certain you wish to scar your skin now and forevermore? You can sit on that couch there and think about it for a couple more minutes." The big smile didn't go away... "They hurt. Take it from me, my boss forced me to get one."
I found myself smiling back at him. Wow. That was definitely not a common occurrence in my daily routine. "I am absolutely certain. Can you get the tattoo artist? I have a design already picked out." Please, please let it not be some jackass or novice. Please give me someone that can do it...
"Demyx!" I blinked at the new voice coming from... somewhere? "Stop scaring the shit out of the customers. You keep telling me we need those Hello Kitty fuckers to pay the damned bills." A growl and then my vision was filled with a very bright red. Hair. Red hair. The tall man appeared behind the blond with the big smile, giving him an amused shake of the head, crossing his covered in tattoos arms over his chest before settling his green piercing eyes on me.
"Can you get me the tattoo artist? Please?" I gritted my teeth and stared down the newcomer. I hated being ignored. Or more precisely, I hate my questions and conversations being interrupted. Just answer the fucking question, get the guy so I can get my tattoo. My hands were balling into fists and I forced them to relax before I left marks on my palms again.
"Why I came out here, Blondie. I be the tattoo artist and owner of Bloody Ink's. Show me your design and I'll tell you if you're worth my damned time." He muttered, receiving a slap on the upper arm from the blond who then gave the redhead a stern look, telling him to behave.
"It shouldn't matter if I'm worth your damned fucking time. I'm paying you, remember? So just tell me if you can handle it, or if you're going to whine about lines." I didn't like him, but maybe he wouldn't be completely useless. I hid my nerves and dug the sketch out of my hoodie pocket. Gently laying it on the counter, I smoothed the edges so they could see the whole effect. I had to be careful. The paper was thin in some places, and it was definitely showing some wear. I'd have to scan it into my computer or make a copy at some point if I didn't want to lose the image.
Not giving me some nasty kind of retort on my previous statement, he stepped closer and carefully looked down at the design, studying it with care, never touching the paper with his fingers. "You..." He murmured, still looking down at the design, a smile appearing on his lips, "Are a fucking angel from heaven." He announced. Straightening he gave me a curt nod. "Demyx, bake this guy a cake because your boss is getting back to work!" The redhead shouted happily. He froze in his joy and then gave me a curious stare, "The design means something to you? Not asking you to tell me what the meaning is, just assure me that this kissable design means something."
"Don't call it kissable." I growled, suddenly angry. "Yes, it means a lot to me. So can you fucking handle it or not? And I didn't say you could to do it." No way was he going to get all excited and expect me to just hand it over. I wanted proof that this wasn't going to be wasted on some uncoordinated lunatic. "Just tell me, can you handle this design or not."
He grinned, "Feisty." And then he nodded, "I can do it. If you need more assurance then I can get you my personal portfolio and you can have a look at my more intricate work for your peace of mind." He offered.
"Yes." I bit out. I waited as he reached down behind the counter and came back up with a 12" by 12" inch binder and set it in front of me. Taking a deep breath, I opened to the first page...then the next...and before I knew it, I'd reached the end of the book. I closed it softly. Closing my eyes, I raised my head and took a deep breath. Relief. I opened my eyes, and the redhead had an eyebrow raised, waiting for my answer and I opened my mouth to oblige him but the blond beside him then shouted.
"Larxene! Get your ass in here." It took about three seconds for a skinny blond girl of about twenty to appear from the place the redhead had come from, eyebrows raised in question. Demyx motioned for her to stand beside the counter. "Lift the shirt." Demyx ordered. The girl named Larxene grinned, popping her gum before turning around so her back was facing me, pulling her shirt up to reveal a huge tattoo covering her back completely. Shoulders, spine, lower back, back of the hips. So much detail and... It was really, very impressive. Beautiful.
Looking over her shoulder with a smile, she said, "Pretty neat huh? Boss came up with the design and put me under his needle. You're in good hands." She said before tugging her shirt back in place, popping her gum again and vanishing back into the door she'd appeared out off.
The blond guy nodded in satisfaction, "There. Now you've seen one live."
"How soon is the first appointment?" I asked and I couldn't keep the urgency or the hope out of my voice. The sooner the better...
"Well, we can go back to the chair right now. I'll scan in the design and print out a new version so we can figure out the correct placement together. I then draw it on you with a marker first, let you check it out and once you're satisfied with the location, we can start gunnin'." He paused, "Considering the amount of detail and black filling? We may have to spread it out over a couple of days. Don't wanna exhaust the hand," He waved his right hand, "nor have you faint on me because of the pain." When I was about to protest he shook his head, grinning, "It hurts and you ain't gonna tell me you're a tough guy who can handle it. It always hurts."
I scowled. "I know it's going to hurt. I was going to say that I didn't care if I passed out, it's worth it." Worriedly, I fingered the edge of the sketch paper. "When you scan it in, can you guarantee me that it won't damage the original?" I couldn't take even the smallest chance with it.
"I care if you pass out. I'm not actually allowed to continue drilling ink in your skin when you're unconscious. So, we are spreading it out over a couple of days." He frowned and then, "Please? Gun never stops moving, my hand can only do so many hours and if I overwork, that shakiness settles into my hand and we wouldn't wanna fuck it up now, right?" He cleared his throat, "And yeah. I'll be as careful as if it were my own baby."
I snorted. "You don't have any babies." I didn't even question how I knew that, but I instinctively knew it to be true. "Yeah, yeah. Spread it out, no drilling me into unconsciousness, I get the picture. Where do I sign the consent form?" I tapped my foot impatiently as I waited for him to give me the consent forms. "How much do I owe you for it?" Not that money was an issue, but I needed a heads up.
"Depends on how big you want it." He murmured absently, finding me that form, once he did he placed it in front of my nose and then reached up, fishing a... he'd stuck a pen in his hair and it had stayed there? "Close ya mouth." He grinned, dropping the pen on the form. Snatching the pen and ignoring his comment I filled out the paperwork on the couch. Dammit these forms were annoying, but they were a means to an end. Every once in a while I glanced up and stared at the picture wall, seeing certain designs jump out at me. This place was hitting nerve after nerve inside of me, making me wish I could stay here all day. But, I had places to go. Signing the last sheet and sighing with relief, I went back to turn it in. Maybe now I could make that appointment...
"You can pay me the first half on your second visit and the second half on your last." He placed the form in a drawer. "Follow me and I'll scan it in while you tell me where on your body it needs to go."
Fidget. "Right now?" I asked shakily. Dammit.
"Yeah, right this way." He turned and then walked through the narrow hallway right behind him that led to a door in the far back. Okay. So I hadn't really prepared for that. Nope. Had not prepared myself to show anybody anything on my body. In fact, I would be happy if he could do the tattoo through my shirt. But since that couldn't happen, I'd been happy to notice that they had at least two separate rooms for tattooing. What I hoped were private rooms. The less questions the better.
Walking after the redhead through the narrow passage, I entered the room he'd asked me to come into. The walls were white and the furniture made out of shiny metal. Sterile. A large comfortable chair bolted into the floor in the middle of the room and in the far back there was a long table, a fancy computer on the left end that the tattoo artist was currently sitting behind, palm on the scanner slash printer beside it. On the right side of the table was his ink, guns and well, whatever else he needed.
"The way it shows on paper is the size you want it in?" I nodded, "Get over here, you can put it in the scanner." Lifting the top of the device, he gestured for me to proceed.
Gulping my fear down, I walked over and gingerly set the sketch down. "Um, can you um, make me a copy, too?" I cleared my throat. "Mine is kind of worn."
He gave me a quick smile, "Sure thing." Closing the lid, he then scanned the design, the printer setting to work a minute or two later, printing out two neat copies of the original. Handing me my copy, he placed his own on the desk beside his keyboard and then opened the lid, motioning for me to take the original. Once I'd securely tucked it back into my pocket he pointed at the big comfortable leather chair in the middle of the room. "Have a seat and then tell me where you'd like it to go."
I didn't move towards the chair. "I want it on my back between my shoulder blades starting at the nape of my neck and going down." Please let that be enough and not need me to take my shirt of yet.
"Alright, good spot," Another quick smile and then he pointed his finger at the shirt, "Strip and lie down on the chair so I can mark you up." Fucking asshole. I narrowed my eyes at my tormentor and angrily stripped off my hoodie. Hesitating a moment when I came to the hem of my shirt, my favorite shirt, I thought about just leaving. No. No. Roxas this was worth it. Taking a deep breath in, I lifted the bottom and drew it over my head. Any comment from the redhead, and I'd be hard pressed not to deck him. And I needed him alive.
Not looking him in the eye, I climbed up onto the chair chest down. "Get on with it." I bit out.
Getting up he stood beside the chair, looming over me, "There's a mirror right in front of you, on your left and on your right so you can see what the hell I'm doing and keep an eye on things. If it's too chilly in here, you tell me and I'll turn the heat up. If it's too hot, you tell me and I'll turn the AC on. If you want music, I'll put some on. If at any given moment you need a break, some coffee and a cookie? You'll get it. Alright, my hands may be a bit cold..." He warned, his fingertips pressing onto my back gently, settling the paper between my shoulder blades.
I bit my lip and kept the yelp from escaping. They were like fucking ice! Was he some cold blooded reptile? Dammit! "Does it fit?" I asked when I felt him adjust the scan over my back. His expression in the mirror didn't change much and I found it rather odd to be talking to a reflection. With his eyes on my back and him on my left side, I was grateful he couldn't see the scar on my right side. I would watch him though and make sure he didn't freak out when he saw it. Or I'd be more than happy if he never saw it.
"It definitely fits. This is going to be beautiful..." The tattoo artist murmured, somewhat absently as he smiled down at the scan. "Alright," He pulled the paper off my back, "Stand back up so I can set the chair in place. I'll draw it on you with markers first and," He pointed up to the ceiling, "With the three mirrors on the wall you can look up at the one on the ceiling and actually see me drawing instead of boring ol' me." Grinning, he pushed the shirt into my hands as I slowly moved off the chair and then he pushed some buttons on the side of it. The chair shifted so I'd no longer be able to lie on it, but sit on it only.
"Why are you going to sketch it on with markers today? Shouldn't you wait til the day we actually start the stabbing of the needle so it doesn't fade?" Really. Why was he going to waste time and draw it twice? Plus, still really uncomfortable sitting in front of him with my naked chest and torso.
He walked back over to the computer, settling behind it as he clicked on some buttons in some program, "You said you wished to start today." He reminded, "You're kind of hard to oppose, you get sorta rude, so I didn't explain right away. Figured I'd wait for the nervous shitters before making my move. I'm drawing on you today so you can tell me that the placement is where you want me to gun you and Imma send you home with the marker on your back so you can look at it from time to time and make sure the location is right for you and, ya know? Get used to having a drawing on your back for like twenty four hours before we make it permanent."
"Oh. That makes sense." I didn't bother to correct him about the nervous shitters. Let him think that I was nervous about the needle, when really it had nothing to do with that. And I hadn't been that rude. Had I? Whatever. It didn't matter. What mattered is that I'd soon have the design in my skin and then hopefully everything would become easier. He printed the drawing out again, but on different paper this time. Turning back around to face me, he gave me another one of his quick smiles before gesturing for me to sit down on the chair again.
"Backwards so I can settle behind you and work on your skin that way." He then waved the paper with the design, "Tattoo tracing paper. It'll be exactly as it is on the original."
Nodding sharply and resisted the urge to shiver, I stepped forward and gingerly sat in the chair with my back facing him. Huh, I didn't even know his name. Maybe I should ask before he got to focused on everything.
"What's your name?"
He sat down on a stool with wheels, rolling over so he could sit behind me, "Axel. Nice to meet you, Roxas." He said, lifting his hands so he could blow some hot breath on them, rubbing them together before he proceeded in placing the paper on my back, holding onto it with one hand before he reached out before me, pulling a small table, also on wheels, to his side.
"Nice to meet you, Axel." I guess it was. At least I could try and remember the manners that I'd learned. I was starting to relax a little with him in the room with me. So often now I was alone. It was comforting to have someone else in the room, even if it wasn't the same as it was before. I didn't say anything else and I just settled in comfortably and tried not to move as I felt the markers draw on my skin.
After a long moment of silence, he broke it, "Ah, the marker will show red. It's similar stuff to henna. So, not chemical, which is nice for ya skin and it'll stick around for a day. You'll want the perm one in black, yeah?" Considering the serious and concentrated expression on his face, I wasn't that surprised his voice still sounded a bit absent. "The keys twinning together to form one? Whoever made this design is a genius..." Less absent now as he pulled back, tilting his head at what he'd gotten done so far before jumping back in.
"Yes. She was a genius." Was all I could choke out. Not just for tattoo designs, but for any kind of drawing. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, holding back the shuddering breath that was trying to escape.
"It's also detailed as fuck, which I bow down before, but I need a couple of minutes so my eyes don't cross over." He reached for something in the drawer of the small table on wheels and then I saw a flash and heard a click and not long after he shoved a camera in my face, letting me take it, "There. Nearly done, just the finishing touches, but I need some coffee first. Want some? I think we got strawberry juice and water too." Standing up, he waited while I stared at the picture.
"Wait! Don't leave yet!" I bit my tongue and felt the feelings of anxiety start to rise again. Keep it together Roxas. "Just. Wait a minute please?" Deep breath in and out. But looking at the design was sparking the tremors and I don't know if I could get a hold of myself if he left. As long as someone was around, I could handle it. It wasn't the same, but nothing would compare to having her by my side. I just needed a place holder for a minute. Sitting back down, he didn't say or question anything, giving me a nod and waited.
"Okay. Okay. Okay." I didn't bother hiding the quiet chanting I was doing. Not caring was what I did best and I certainly didn't care what he thought. At least as long as he didn't think I was crazy. I cared about that. Still, maybe I was. She'd been dead for almost a year now and I was still having these episodes. But at least they were becoming less frequent. The doctor had diagnosed me with some sort of separation anxiety. Whatever. My heart settled and I opened my eyes again. "Okay. Yes, I'd like some coffee please."
Giving me a smile he stood, "You can come with if you want. Cozier in the kitchen to drink a cup. I do smoke." He said all this while walking out of the room, giving me the choice to just stay here or follow him with out pressure. I followed.
"On your left." Taking a left, I entered a small kitchen. Axel was preparing two mugs of coffee, pointing blindly behind him, mutely telling me I could take a seat at the round little table. "Demyx, blond dude with big grin? Made the cookies. They're awesome. You may try." And then he turned around, sitting down on the chair opposite me, sliding my cup of coffee into my hands. Settling back, he signed contently as he smelled the coffee and then took a sip before putting a cigarette between his lips, lit it and then inhaled happily.
"Smoking is bad for you, okay?" I grinned to myself at the inside joke that I doubt he was going to get. Pulling out my own pack and lighter, I joined him.
"Yet so good..." He murmured, "Now fess up. Whats funny?"
"Have you ever seen Muppet's From Space? Well, there's this shrimp with a French accent and he tells somebody that. Me and my sister used to watch it all the time. It was her favorite line to quote to me when I smoked. Just reminded me of that is all." Inhaling I took in the small sort of break room. Pretty decent. And the cookies weren't bad.
"I haven't," He smiled, seemingly okay and not frowning over not knowing what exactly I was talking about.
"You're missing out. We used to watch it every year for the 4th of July celebration. It's funnier when you're old enough to get all of the inside jokes that they sneak in there." Except last year. Last year hadn't been spent watching it with Namine like it should have been. Like it would never be again.
"I'll give it a try then." He said easily, crushing his cigarette in the ashtray beside the plate of cookies. "Can you handle Eminem? He's my favorite to listen to when inking. So I ask. If you don't like him then you better bring a CD when you come back in two days."
Bleh. "Um, you can listen to him. I'll just bring my ipod." I finished up my own cigarette and mimicked his actions. He could listen to whatever made him happy, as long as he did it right. And as long as I didn't have to listen to his horrible taste in music while he did it, I was happy.
"Very well." He murmured, sipping his coffee. The blond guy, Demyx, walked into the kitchen, eying me in question.
"Hello customer in the private part of the store." He said, turning his questioning stare on Axel, who growled. Hey, what was that about? I wasn't allowed to be here? "Oh alright. I'll behave." Demyx said, circling the table to grab a cookie, "Pretty good, right?" He complimented himself and too late I realized his eyes were traveling over my chest, landing on the scar on my side. I tensed. His eyebrows raised and he opened his mouth to most likely ask a question about it but...
"Demyx. I will drag you out by the ear if you so much as do what you're about to do." The blond closed his mouth, wrinkling his nose at his boss before he shrugged.
"Oh fine. Be grumpy." He sighed, giving me a quick smile before vanishing back out in the reception area, closing the door behind him.
I relaxed and turned my gaze to the redhead sharing the table with me. "I'm not allowed back here?" I asked with my eyebrow raised. He'd let me back here and then sort of, protected me I guess, from his employee. I hadn't been expecting that. My conscience was nagging at me loud and clear now. Stop being an ass! Was that my conscience or was that Namine shaking her head and smacking me?
Axel grinned, "Nah, not normally no. I've had a severe dislike for customers as of late and become a little less sociable. But I figured," A shrug, "You managed to make me pick up my gun again with actual eagerness and we're going to be spending some time together considering the size and detail." He paused, raising an eyebrow, "Of course, I wouldn't have tried to be nice had I known you'd bring your ipod and block me out."
"Hey!" I found myself grinning at him again. What an odd occurrence. "Fine, I'll bring a CD next time. But, if you don't like it, you have to tell me. We'll put Eminem back on if you need it."
When he smiled this time I could tell that all the previous smiles he'd given me? Had been fake. This one was genuine. "We'll load it into my itunes and then put it on shuffle. Compromise." Standing up, he gestured for the door, "Now, ready to finish up?"
Axel - Two days later
Staring wistfully back into my peaceful apartment, I sighed and then closed the door before stepping down the stairs that led into the small and cozy kitchen in the back of Bloody Ink's. I was spoiled, clearly... I finally got what I'd wanted. A beautiful and meaningful design, a challenge. No more Hello Kitties. I'd been excited and I suppose I still was. But the soon to be owner of that permanent tattoo was such an incredible ass.
Well, I suppose that was exaggerating things a bit, but he was definitely rude. It was clear to me that he hadn't been in a good mood when he'd entered my store and that something had him bouncing on the back of his heels the entire time. Ever since he'd left two days ago with the marking on his back, I'd been trying to tell myself that he'd probably just been nervous. Among other things... Such as outbursts you never saw coming, forcing you to walk on eggshells around the dude and of course, that unexplained scar. Not that I was going to ask, but I was curious. Being curious was allowed. Those outbursts though... He literally just spat at you and worse was that he seemed to believe he had every right to do so.
"It'll be okay Axel, if you're lucky he will in fact ignore you and just plug in his headphones." Blinking out of my daze, I smiled up at Demyx who came to sit beside me at the kitchen table, pulling the lit cigarette from my lips so he could crush it in the ashtray and then shoved a mug of coffee in my hands.
"I doubt it. I told him I'd try to be nice." I wrinkled my nose and Demyx blinked in surprise.
"Why on earth would you do that? You're never nice."
"Hey." I warned, grinning, "I am very nice."
Demyx pressed his lips tightly together, giving me a pat on the shoulder, "Yes, You're a nice guy when you're not bored. You've been a bit of a bully lately."
"Again?" I asked apologetically and Demyx nodded his head, giving me a sad smile. "I'm sorry, you know I love you Dem." I did. He was my best friend and he was one of the most honest people I knew. Like, literally, he told me when I was being ass. Not many people dared.
Demyx looked at me worriedly, "No temptations, right?" He asked hesitantly. I shook my head instantly, reassuring him he had nothing to worry about there. "You're sure, because you're a pretty damn good liar when you want to be."
"Yes, well," I shrugged, "Druggies usually are, aren't they?"
"Ex." Demyx said sternly, yet the pride evident in his voice on me getting cleaned up. He opened his mouth to start preaching and thankfully the bell at the store's entrance saved my ass, leading me to jump out of the chair and walk into the reception area.
Closing the kitchen door beside me, I offered my complicated customer a sincere smile, "Happy to see you haven't changed your mind." Sure, he was rude, but I really did want to ink that design...
He smiled at me, which to be honest, surprised me a little. "Nope, haven't changed my mind. So, where do you want me today?" He looked eager and less tense than the last time I saw him and I hoped he would curb the attitude with me a little.
"Same room." I pointed at the door behind me at the end of the narrow hallway, "We'll start and see how you handle the needle, from there on I'll be able to tell you how many sessions it's going to take us." Taking the lead, I made my way into my own personal tattoo area. Larxene had hers with her own stuff. We didn't like to mix our crap together. Same goes for Demyx. And of course having two separate rooms for tattooing allowed us to take on two customers at once.
I walked up to the computer, hitting the space bar so it would wake and then printed another copy of the design onto a piece of tracing paper in case I needed to do some touch ups on the one I'd done on his back two days prior.
And... "Strip and make yourself comfortable." I said softly, keeping my back to him so he could have some privacy. He clearly didn't like people staring at the scar and although I'd done a pretty bang up job about it last time, it wasn't something you could simply ignore. Giving into the curiosity and staring without shame? That would be rude and he was rude with me and I didn't like it so I figure, maybe if I'm not rude with him he'll do me the same favor.
I heard him removing his clothing without hesitating this time and settling into the chair. "Umm, could you turn the heat up just a little bit?" He asked shyly. Turning, I gave him a nod and then walked over to the other end of the table so I could do just what he asked me before plopping down on my stool, pushing off on my feet so I could slide over to the chair he was now seated on. Rubbing my hands together, I blew some of my breath on them, making sure they weren't cold before touching his bare skin. I eyed the drawing I'd put there two days ago and then quickly grabbed a marker off the small table to do some touch ups.
"Imma touch you now," I warned before placing the tracing paper on his back and preparing my base for the actual real deal.
"Okay. I'm ready. Go ahead." I glanced at the mirror and saw him bracing himself, probably expecting cold hands again. I rubbed them together for good measure and then placed my palm gently against his left shoulder blade to keep steady while I pressed the marker against and through the tracing paper, letting the henna make it's way into his skin.
"First tattoo?" I asked, trying to sound pleasant. I was pleasant, it was just really hard to talk with a lot of expression when concentrated on something specific. I could tell he was a virgin, but figured it was probably best I ask him since assuming things with Blondie hadn't really worked all that well in previous episodes.
"Yeah. We had plans to get tattoos together, but, well. It didn't happen. So I went through her sketch book and found the one she designed for me. She, being my sister Namine. She's the artist." I heard the pain beneath his words, still sharp it seemed.
I hummed, eyes still fixed on my work, "Although not many would agree, tattoos being frowned upon and all, it is a beautiful way to honor her." I paused, giving him a quick smile through the mirror in front of him before returning my attention to his skin, "Carrying a part of her on the outside as well as the inside."
"That's what I thought too." He sighed without shifting his back. "But apparently this design was too complicated for everyone else." Ducking his head a little, I noticed him grimacing in the mirror. "I sort of didn't take it well when this one guy told me he'd modify it so he could do it. Like I wanted to pay to get some shitty version of that design on my skin." He growled.
"Luxord's." I said instantly, knowing exactly who he was talking about, "He's very lazy. Which I can't really complain about because his unsatisfied clients..." I grinned up at him, winking, "End up at my place. He mentored Larxene. It's the huge amount of pity for that very reason that I hired her. She's catching up really well... Hello Kitties for the next year or so still, but after that I'll let her fly free." Well... Apparently I was a little more talkative today. Patting his back, I stood from the stool, "Touch up is ready which means we're gonna start gunnin'. The air better? Need a drink? The chair comfortable?" Needing to make sure he was good to go.
"I'm fine. Thanks." He looked surprised that I was asking all these questions, but what did he think? That I'd just expect him to be uncomfortable the whole time? Probably. People saw the sterile environment and automatically thought of doctors offices where you were always uncomfortable. "Can you angle that one mirror just a little bit? There's kinda a glare. I really wanna watch as you do it." Well. Clearly I needed to get laid if I started seeing innuendo in Roxas' words. Moving over to the mirror that bothered him, I angled it and stepped away when he said the glare was gone.
"Alright, while I prepare the gun you should take advantage and stretch your legs a bit since if you don't faint, we'll be at it for a while. Depending on how you deal, I'm aiming to get the line-work done in today's session." I explained, walking over to the right end of the table so I could pull out some new plastic gloves, snapping them on. That done, I grabbed my precious case and then put it on my table beside the chair Roxas was still occupying. Sitting down on my stool, I pulled the ink out of my case and proceeded in preparing the tattoo gun. Ah... Finally, the butterflies of excitement were back. This little project was definitely doing me good.
He stood up from the chair and glanced down at all of the supplies that I had out. I could tell he was a little curious but he was going to take advantage of my suggestion to stretch apparently. Raising his arms above his head I was surprised when he winced a little and his arm fell back down obviously unable to hold the stretch he'd been doing. Maybe it had something to do with the scar? I watched out of the corner of my eye as he rubbed the area and bit his lip while his fingers massaged the spot. What happened to him? He finished and glanced at the instruments again before sitting back down in the chair.
"The line-work is the easy part," Good, focus on what you know and not on things you're not supposed to ask questions about. "It hurts the least and it won't take long. The next session will be the fillers. Bigger needle and since fillers are the parts where it's supposed to be filled with black completely, I'll be drilling into your skin on the same area. With line-work I'm constantly moving which is why it stings a little less. Since there's a lot of filling, we'll spread it out over two or three sessions. The last step is touch ups, same needle as the line-work. And then you tell me how great I am and tada." Smiling in satisfaction at my now ready to go gun, I nodded at him, "Questions?"
He'd been nodding at my explanation and he looked slightly intrigued by the entire process. "So, what happens if I faint? I mean, I doubt I will, but what do you guys do when someone passes out?"
"I'll make sure you aren't contorted in some deranged manner and then get you a cookie and a glass of chocolate milk for when you come back to consciousness." Tough, gruff tattoo artists we be. Cookies and chocolate milk our cure. Roar. Silly snobs that thought we were dangerous were complete fools. Smiling up at Roxas, and a nice smile because I liked it when customers were curious, I said, "Did you bring us that CD?"
"Oh! Shit!" He smacked his forehead and winced. "I totally forgot! I guess I was in such a hurry to get here I left it on the counter." Sighing in defeat, he slumped in his chair. "And my ipod is on it's charging station. Oh well. I promise to not complain about the music." I watched as he crossed his heart and raised his right hand solemnly promising to leave my music choice alone.
"Or..." Don't do it Axel, you'll corrupt yourself by being so nice! "Tell me what band you like best and I'll find it for you in less than a second." Offering your hacking skills? Honestly, I must have knocked my head or something.
He smiled at me in the mirror. "No. It's really fine. I want you to do your best. Please." Had he ever said please to me before?
"Next time then." I assured, ignoring the voice in my head from this point onwards. Taking the small remote held by a magnet at the foot of the chair Roxas was seated on, I pressed play and let Muse play their music loud enough for me to hear the lyrics, yet not too loud so it would block me from speaking to him. Or the other way around...
Roxas stiffened as the music began to play. Turning so he could look me in the eye and not through the mirrors, he gave me a puzzled and slightly upset look. "Hey, I said you can listen to Eminem. I want your best, Axel. It's not a big deal for me, okay?" His voice was rough and puzzled sounding.
I laughed softly, "I listen to more than Eminem. I asked if you could deal with him as he's the only one customers seem to have issues with. Muse, Placebo, Orishas, Eminem... Lots on my playlist. Needs to be because I can't listen to the same shit for too long." I was an energetic person, easily distracted in some subjects. Not the same way Demyx was, he was simply hyper and excited and happy about life in general. I was literally a battery. My mother had believed I'd had ADHD. She'd thought herself to be smarter than doctors altogether and gotten me a 'pill' that was supposed to help ease my stress. I'd been too young to know that stress was for the way my mother lived her life and of course, she'd been my mother, I'd trusted her when she'd started feeding me these pills. Now, I was an ex-drug addict. Fun times. Anyway... "I said I could do it, Roxas, so I'll do it. Music isn't going to tamper with my talent." I reassured.
He stared at me, gauging me I guess, before nodding once and turning back around to settle in the chair. "Okay. I believe you." A pause, "Then can I hear some Placebo please?" He asked.
I waved my gun, "They'll pop right in after muse. Now though..." I didn't have time to skip the songs. Wiping off his back with some alcohol, I cleaned him up and then sat back, turning on the gun, sighing contently at the humming sound coming from it... Now that noise was better than music altogether. Nothing could top that sound... "Keep as still as you can. If you feel itchy somewhere, or need to move? You tell me and I'll retract the gun till you're ready to go again. Don't be a tough guy, when you need a break, you say so." I said the last sternly, needing him to do that for me because I'd rather avoid having him faint on me. And you don't want to hurt him. Bullshit. Dammit. I guess I didn't... Whatever.
"Okay. I'm ready, Axel." He nodded once, and braced himself in the chair.
Concentrated on holding him steady with my left hand, I hovered the gun over the first line I was going to ink, "Need you to relax, babe." I whispered, frowning as he felt tense beneath my palm, my eyes never leaving the markings though as I waited patiently for him to get himself together. "Breathe. It's important you breathe." He took a deep breath in and let it out, the tension leaving his shoulders as the breath exited his body. Wow. The kid knew some relaxing techniques, maybe he'd learned while he tried to keep that temper in check.
"Go." Without hesitation, I did as asked, holding his back still when the gun made first contact with his skin. Wielding the machine, I steadily moved it down his back, following the lines of the first twined key. Ah... I still couldn't get over the beauty of this thing.
"How you doing, Rox?" I asked absently, wiping off the first spots of blood appearing after the black ink I'd drilled into him. All the while resuming my way along the shape of the key with the gun.
"Fine, actually. Is the needle even going in?" He sounded surprised and he was watching me closely in the mirror,
"Yes." I answered, my shoulders stiff as I made my way back up, "I'm working on a soft spot right now, when I hit the skin above your spine you'll feel it." Wipe, drill. My eyes never left his back. "You from Hollow Bastion?" I asked conversationally.
"No. I moved here about 10 months ago. You?" He seemed interested in my answer at least...
"I'm from Luca originally. Big stinkin' City up north. Course it's hard to go from City to country so Hollow Bastion is that perfect middle point. Been here nine years now." Drill, sigh, wipe and continue.
"Have you always been an artist? Or do you just tattoo people?"
I smiled, "Always drawn, it's when I moved to Hollow Bastion that I wanted to get myself a tattoo." Drill, wipe. "My left arm is what that tattoo is. Xigbar, he used to own a tattoo shop here, he's the one that did it and suggested I try my hand at tattooing. So I did and I'm glad." I smiled at the fond memory of Xigbar, "He's off touring. Tattoo competitions." Pausing for a moment as I was working a particularly tricky spot, "What do you do?"
He didn't respond at first, instead he was staring intently at the spot I was on. "Oh, well, I don't do anything." Sounding nonchalant I could almost see his shoulders shrugging in my mind. "I'm not talented like Namine." Pause. A quick glance up and I saw his mouth stretched in a thin line and I felt like he was unhappy about saying her name. "She was amazing, could draw anything she saw after just one look. This one time, just to prove she could, she drew the Eiffel Tower from memory." He chuckled softly. "Her art teacher had been going on and on about how true artists always have to use a reference guide, how nobody could do an accurate replica after just one look. And after she did it, He ended up ignoring her for the rest of the year. Stupid fucker." Roxas' voice was full of what I can only assume was happiness as he continued. "She was the talented twin."
"Is she now..." I whispered, pulling the gun off his skin as the first key was done and I could move on to the next. Before I did though, I looked at him through the mirror, grinning, "Sounds like you guys really loved each other. So much so, I'm thinking it's safe to say she'd whack you over the head for saying she was the talented one, making it sound like you aren't." Returning the gun to his skin, I then added, "What did she like best in you?" It's not that I didn't want to hear about this Namine... She meant a lot to him, clearly, but I kind of wanted to get to know Roxas. Some Namine? Sure. But now I was getting Namine's entire resume and just one line on Roxas. 'I don't do anything'. I figured the best way for me to find stuff out about Roxas, was asking my questions through her. "What did she know you could do? Being twins and all I'm sure she knew better than anyone."
"I don't know. It's not like I asked her what she liked about me or anything. We were always just, together." He didn't elaborate and I wondered if I'd pushed a little too hard. Mirror Roxas looked unhappy and I was startled to see his eyes shining a bit. Shit. "It's just the way the twin thing works, okay? One twin does stuff the other twin can't." He closed his eyes and I figured he was done with that line of thought.
Mentally shaking myself out of it, I wiped, drilled and resumed on the third key now. "So... First kiss? Was yours sloppy too? If you tell me it was perfect I won't believe you." Please let that lighten the mood... "Have you ever run into a glass door, believing it was open and then surprised to find out it wasn't once you've fallen back on your ass?"
"Never been kissed, and yes, many times. Until my parents finally decided to get one of Namine's window designs etched into the glass." He opened his eyes and I was pleased to see the unhappiness subdued a little. Smiling, weakly at me, he added, "And even then, I hardly paid enough attention and still ran into it. I'm not the brightest crayon in the crayon box apparently."
This conversation was becoming more personal by the second... And I was actually feeding it to go on. Amazing. "If it makes you feel better," Drill, wipe. "I ran into one and then I ran into it again right after getting back up just to make sure it was really closed." I'd been high, but still. Pulling the gun off his skin, I chuckled and then laughed softly, "Sorry. People running into windows is simply hilarious."
Checking to make sure the gun was pulled all the way back, he laughed. "Yeah, I was a constant source of amusement at least. Can I take a quick bathroom break?"
Turning off the gun, I nodded, "Imma need a cigarette and a glass of coke. The bathroom is right through that door on your left. Do you want anything?"
"I'm okay. Thank you, though." He stood up and went throught the door towards the bathroom. Letting him do his thing, I made my way to the kitchen, getting myself that glass of coke I'd wanted, lighting up a cigarette as I sat down onto one of the kitchen chairs, sighing contently. Well... this was going a lot better than I thought it would. He seemed to be in an okay mood today which... Strangely enough, he was kinda cool.
Roxas - Two days later
I checked my back in the mirror once more. It looked amazing. So much like her design, it was freaky. That guy, Axel, was amazing. Sighing with relief I dropped my shirt back down covering it and wincing a little. I was a bit sore, but that was to be expected.. Popping some of my pain killers, I massaged my side to loosen up the skin around my scar. I'd learned my lesson about sitting in one position too long the last time and I knew I would need to take some time out today and massage it so it wouldn't be stiff afterwards. I'd come home from the first session, completely sore and smarting on the scar tissue. Axel was pretty good about making me take breaks during the inking so that was nice.
Today we would begin the filler portion of the tattoo and I was excited to see how much he could get done. Putting my keys and wallet into my pockets, I headed out the front door and down the stairs of my house to my car. The lawsuit money from my sister's death and my accident had been more than enough to set me for life, but now that I was out of the hospital on my own, I was starting to get a little antsy. Should I get a job or something? Go back to school? It was so hard to make decisions for just me. I was used to making plans for the both of us. How was I supposed to know what I should do now?
Starting my car, I turned on the radio and scanned to find a station that didn't make me want to blow my brains out. Gritting my teeth, I skipped at least four country stations. How the hell did people listen to that shit?
I grinned as I pulled into the parking lot, excited to see the Bloody Ink sign lit up. This place was pretty cool and Axel's music didn't irritate me as much as I'd thought it would. He was kinda funny too. Pushing the door open, I waved at Demyx who was behind the counter and I went to look at the picture wall. I was about ten minutes early today, so maybe I could spot some more of Axel's designs.
"Wow." I whispered, some of these were amazing!
"Roxas, is it?" Demyx asked, pulling me out of my careful observing.
"Yeah." I tore my eyes away from the wall and turned to look at Demyx. "What?"
"How do I look?" He asked, circling the counter and giving me a worried, excited, questioning look... Maybe a bit hopeful too? "I have a date with Hottie McHottie across town and Bloody Ink rival, Zexion. I need to look my best. Normally I ask Axel his opinion, since he has a great sense of style and knows exactly how to woo the men, but..." This guy never stopped talking... "By the time he gets down here, I'm already gone. You're gay. Help me." He pleaded, pointing at his outfit again. "I want this guy to like me. Not nail me like me, but like me, like me."
I rolled my eyes. "You look fine. And if you want this guy to like you for you, then just be yourself. Don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll knock his socks off."
He gave me that big bright smile again, "Well, you're officially the sweetest." He announced, "Axel should be down in less than five. Gotta go now, else I'll be late!" He shouted that all the while walking out of the door, the bell ringing as the door closed behind him. That guy was pretty hyper, but funny. There wasn't anyone around for the counter and I remembered that Axel's portfolio was sitting on the other side of it. Could I just get one more look at it...? Why not. Glancing around again, I quickly darted behind the counter and grabbed the black binder. I put it on the counter and started flipping through it again. Damn, this guy was good...
"Gotta say... You don't look bad behind that counter. If you weren't so rude, I'd hire you." Axel chuckled and when I snapped my head to the side to see him leaning against the kitchen door frame, he winked, clearly not upset with my snooping nor all that serious about the 'rude' comment. "How's it going, Rox? The skin feeling a bit less tight? No burning sensation?" He walked over to the counter, looking down at the design I'd been looking at with a smile.
I backed up a little, feeling guilty for snooping. "I'm good, thanks." Huffing a little, I stuck my tongue out at him. "And I am not rude. I'm just blunt."
Closing the binder gently, he looked at me with a smile, "True... Unfortunate that customers don't stick around long enough to see you aren't a bad guy at all." Nodding, he pointed at the room in the back, "Shall we?"
I blushed. Well, that was certainly a weird thing to do. "Yeah. Let's get going." Without looking at him again, I headed back towards the room that he'd been doing my tattoo in. What he said was playing over in my mind again and again. He didn't think I was a bad guy? Did that mean he thought I was a good guy? Why did it matter anyways? Well, maybe it mattered because he'd been so excited about Namine's design, or maybe because he could actually manage to do it justice. Well, whatever. "What are you going to be doing today?" I asked as I stripped off my shirt and waited for him to tell me to get into the chair.
"Fillers. Bigger needle, remember? It might sting a bit more than yesterday." He warned as he snapped some plastic gloves on before preparing the tattoo gun, "This will take a couple of minutes. Did you remember to bring your CD this time? If so, help yourself and pop it into the computer." He smiled, "Move while you can to avoid straining yourself by sitting in the same position later on."
I shook my head, grinning. "Nah, I didn't bring it. I like your music just fine, apparently." I moved my shoulders and arms around a little, wincing as the scar on my right side stretched and the skin around it ached a little. Damn thing still hurt sometimes. "Bigger needle? How much will you get done today?" I was pretty excited to see some of it filled in. It was slowly looking more like my sketch.
"I'll be working on the top part and then in two days I'll fill out the bottom. That's how much I can do without straining the hand," He wiggled the hand, "Again though, depends on how you handle it. If you're hurting too much I'll do it in three or four sessions instead." He hummed appreciatively as he turned the gun on, checking and then turned it back off before gesturing for me to sit myself down, "So... In these last two days, have you thought about what you're good at?" He asked curiously, cleaning my skin with one of those strong alcohol smelling wipes he had. His left hand remained on my back, keeping me steady like it had the last session. The tattoo gun's noise was back on, telling me he was about to start. "Remember, if it's too much, you tell me and we take a break."
"Okay. And, I didn't know I was supposed to be looking for something that I'm good at." I huffed a little. What was with this guy? I hadn't put much stock in his questions from before because mainly, who really wants to know someones talents? He was like those hairdressers that asked each customer the same question, just looking to fill the silence. Not minding the silence at all, I hadn't bothered to even think about what he'd said before. The music was fine to fill the time. Plus, watching the actual tattooing being done was pretty neat.
Instead of answering my huff, he drilled the needle into my skin. If I knew him a little better, I would have sworn he'd done that right now on purpose to punish me for my irritation. But I didn't know him, so he might just be good at his job and realize I was a mute type of customer that didn't like small talk. I frowned as I realized he was right, this needle did sting more and since he wasn't moving all that much, the poke of his gun seemed to be staying on the same area, never giving it a break or time to relax some.
I gritted my teeth, breathing deep through my nose trying to focus on something besides the pain. Fuck. My eyes squinted shut and I balled my fist, letting my nails dig into my palms. I couldn't hold back the small moan that broke free from my lips.
"Hey, s'okay," He pulled the tattoo gun back instantly, the humming noise shutting up. I felt him wipe my skin with his left and my eyes popped open as his other hand settled gently on my side. My right side. Where my scar was. "Breathe..." He said softly.
"Fuck!" I flinched as even that little touch sent pain shooting down my side. It's a good thing he'd pulled the gun away because I reacted so bad that I was halfway off the chair before I'd registered my movement.
From the corner of my eye, I could see he had his palms lifted, lips parted as he looked at me apologetically, "Sorry!" He said quickly, "I completely forgot, I just wanted to make sure you were steady." He explained.
I clenched my teeth and bit down the instinct to lash out at the person nearest. He didn't mean to, he didn't know. "No. You're fine. I just, shit, it's been almost a year and it still hurts like a bitch." The pain was subsiding and I figured that it, added to the pain from the needle would be too much right now. "I just need a minute. Sorry." Ducking my head, I refused to look at him and the questions that my behavior would raise.
Although eyes lowered, I could see he let his palms fall to his thighs softly, "Can I get you anything? Anything specific that usually makes it better? I'm sure I can get my hands on whatever it is." He was talking fast, not like his usual speech that was relaxed. "Shit. I'm so stupid..." He muttered, his fingers clenching around his jeans.
I couldn't stop myself as I turned around to reach over and patted his arm. "You didn't know. It's okay. It's my fault for not warning you." My muscles were un-clenching as the pain diminished to bearable proportions. "It's from a car accident. The one that killed Namine. I was driving and we were hit. My side was sliced open pretty bad. It's okay now, usually." My words were just tumbling out as I tried to reassure him it hadn't been his fault. My hand was still on his arm and I blinked in surprise as I felt his hand cover my own, a gentle squeeze of the fingers. It was a gesture of sympathy at what I'd just told him.
"I hope whoever was in the other car either died themselves or paid heavily for the consequences."
"It wouldn't matter either way. She died and I didn't. It's an unfair trade." My tone was flat and I pulled my hand back, already missing the warmth from his own. It's been the hardest to move on and forget the guy. He'd come away pretty much unscratched and only because I'd fought and pushed for it, had he been prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Some pretty little rich boy with a politician for a father. But he was behind bars now, for the next 20 years at least.
"We can start again. I'm prepared for the needle and I'll be okay."
"Appreciate the life you were granted to keep. If roles were reversed, would you want her to spend her life feeling guilt, regret and anger? Not telling you to listen to me, I'm just giving you my opinion. Now you can either see my point and think about it, or shove it away if it pisses you off." Holding onto my back, he then added in a gentle warning, "Steady now, I'm going back in." I just nodded, thinking about what he said. How exactly do you appreciate the life you were granted if your other half isn't there? Or if you are constantly missing someone or something? Is that really a life worth living anymore? Namine would surely hate that I blamed myself to a certain point, but she wasn't here to kick me and tell me to get my head out of my ass. No, she wasn't here at all. We remained silent for a moment, the gun working steadily and continuously. It was after a few long minutes filled with background music that Axel suddenly spoke.
"I have a half brother..." His eyes never left my back, concentration fully on inking, "Reno is his name. We got the same father. Reno was two when I was born and he and my dad stuck around until I was about eight years old." He sighed, "My mother is a bit of a..." A pause, "She's special." He clipped out. "Reno made everything better. He was my whole world and then my mother had to be the way she was and this then left my dad no choice but to leave. Reno was his, so he went along with dad. He tried to get custody of me, but when my mother wants something..." he wiped my skin, pausing in his words for a moment as he was working a difficult spot, "None can stop her from getting it." Pursing his lips, I saw a sad frown appear between his eyebrows, but it just as soon vanished, "Haven't seen Reno or dad since."
What the fuck? "You haven't seen them since? Do you know where they live? Could they come visit you?" That wasn't fair at all. He had a brother he hadn't seen in who knows how long, because of his mother? What a bitch.
"First year I got in Hollow Bastion I searched for them. Didn't find anything though..." He smiled a bit, "Maybe I'll try harder when I find the courage again."
The pain between my shoulders was becoming a bit unbearable now. "Okay, Axel. I gotta take a break. Please."
He pulled the gun away and turned it off, nodding at me through the mirror, "You hungry? I'm hungry. Let's get some pizza delivered."
Sighing in relief, I went to retrieve my shirt. "I'm starving and if you're paying, I want a meat lover's."
To be continued...