Thanks for being so patient with this one! I apologize for the chapters being short; it's not usually my style but, here we are. Thanks to Taylor for her help, as always! Please feel free to give any suggestions or comments, I don't mind :3
"So, I took a few liberties in the details of this one, if you don't mind that. The colors are all the same; I'm not going to make it pink or anything." Reagan joked as she walked back with the ink and began to adjust her needle. Phil leaned over and looked at what she had ultimately drawn out and raised his brow as he looked back at the woman. The purple haired woman caught his glances and chuckled. "You look a little nervous there."
He shook his head with an incredulous look on his face. "Oh, please, I'm not worried. I'm the last person that would be worried about a tattoo; that's well documented." He said, his arms on his knees.
Reagan rolled her eyes. "Well shit, I didn't know I was tattooing the fucking Mayor of Chicago…Or someone with an ego the size of Chicago." She said with a huff. "Could you take your shirt off so we can get started? We're gonna be here a while."
Phil smirked and made a show of it and took his shirt off slowly, not breaking eye contact with the tattoo artist as he laid back. "You really don't know who I am, huh?" Reagan responded with a shake of her head as she pressed the transfer paper to his chest; uncomfortably face to face with her frowning client.
"Have you ever heard of CM Punk?" He asked, looking at her as if she had two heads.
"Nope, is that you?" She asked as she rolled away and went to her needle.
"Yeah, that's me. I wrestle—well, used to wrestle."
"Oh, like that WWF shit? I don't have cable. Well, good for you, then. That must make you feel special." She remarked with a laugh as she started up the needle and went to his chest.
"I'll have you know that I…" Phil sighed and realized just how ridiculous he sounded. "I was popular for a while." He sighed dejectedly.
"I'm sure you were a big deal; I'm just not up on pop culture." She said and looked up at the bearded man, trying not to crack a smile. "I'm sure you were great."
Phil nodded. "I was, then—Wait a fucking minute, are you laughing?" He sat up and it was then that Reagan couldn't keep up the charade and began to bust out laughing.
"Nope, lay back down, Mr. Punk…My God, I was seeing how long I could keep on fucking with you." She chuckled and gave him a smile. "We're in Chicago, Phil, not Bumblefuck, North Dakota, of course I know who you are; the homeless dude outside my apartment knows who you are."
"That was…shit, you had me." Phil said with a laugh and looked over Reagan once more.
"I'm pretty good at bluffing…and stop laughing! You're cute when you laugh, but unless you want a crooked skull, you gotta keep still for me, alright?" Reagan said, her cheeks flushed as she felt his green eyes on her.
"That was…not subtle at all, but I can deal with it."
"Well, we've got a few hours together, so you're gonna have to." She joked as she continued on, her bottom lip between her teeth in concentration.