Beneath the Ink (COMPLETE)

Strange

Cecelia May

I spoke, blabbering to the silent man.

"You know what. I'm breaking it off. Thomas is the man's name by the way." He stuck his hands back into his hoodie pocket.

"What do you think?" I looked at him.

"I agree, he has absolutely nothing to him." I snorted at my own joke.

"I'm so sorry if that offensive." I covered my face with my hands.

I rubbed my eyes, so tired.

"I don't want to work. God I hate nights." I groaned.

"You should wait here. Let me tell you all of my stories when I'm done in this place. Kidding. You don't have to, you don't even know me." I stood, grabbing my plate.

He looked between me and the chair.

"What?" I asked.

He almost glared at me, then the plate.

"My lunch is over, I spent it talking nonsense and boring you." I smiled.

"Sit." He said and I merely fell over.

Gravel. The deepest gravel.

I sat myself, looking over at a confused Molly.

He stood, I'd never paid attention, he was massive, not just in height, I estimated 6'4 but he was so broad.

He walked to her and handed her something.

He came back, sitting, looking at me.

He looked at my plate.

I began eating, uncomfortable by being watched but I wasn't going to not listen.

I uttered my stupid words to an utterly terrifying man-thing.

He kept staring until I was done.

He finally relieved me of my discomfort as I stood, walking away with no dirty glares.

I looked at Molly.

"Did he say anything to you?" I asked.

She shook her head no, showing me a $100.

I nodded, looking back at the man pulling his hood over his black hair.

I played as bartender the rest of the night, making people drinks.

The man stood, walking over to me, sitting at a stool, his pecks visible through the large hoodie.

I could finally see him and he was every woman's wet dream, bad boy scenario.

Dreamy, with black hair hiding under the hood, nose hoop, brown eyes, his facial structure so nice I wondered if he had surgery.

But it didn't look fake, just perfect.

I handed him a menu.

I walked across the bar, talking to the people, getting them drinks.

I walked back to the man and he handed me back the menu.

"Nothing?" I asked.

I took it from him when he didn't answer.

"Water?" I tried.

He glanced at the glasses and I took that as a yes.

I set one in front of him.

"Do you work?" I asked.

He looked up at me.

That's a yes?

"What do you do?" I asked and he pulled a hand from his hoodie pocket, showing me the back of it, ink poured across his skin, dancing over his fingers.

"Tattoo artist?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"Do you have a lot of tattoos?" I asked.

He sat back, staring at me.

"That's cool." I decided I could chose his answers almost based on reactions.

If he engaged and moved, yes, neglecting to move was a no.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

Nothing.

"That's good. I was thinking of getting something on my ribs. For my late mother. She loved pink dogwood trees." I smiled.

His lips turned slightly at the ends.

"Do you do those kinds of tattoos?" I asked.

He looked at me.

"Would you be offended if I asked you to do it? Or someone you know if your busy? I saved up. I have a reference." I shrugged.

He leaned forward, taking the straw beside the glass, ridding it of paper as he put the straw in the drink, sipping.

"Okay, so I'm taking that as a you'd be willing." I smiled.

He sat back, tilting his head.

"Do you work at the shop a street down?" I asked.

He raised his eyebrows a bit.

"Alright. I might have to look for you then." I walked to a customer.

"You're so sweet, I love when you serve me, here dear." The lady gave me a $20.

"You're so kind, have a good night, be safe." I put the cash in my pocket.

I returned to the silent man.

"Do you have a name so I don't refer to you as a silent man?" I teased.

He slid a little card on the counter, brass knuckles on his hand and I didn't know if I should question it.

I looked at the card, it was the place a street down.

Rhodes Beverley.

I looked at him, associating name with face.

That was a very attractive name for him, it matched well.

I snorted.

"I was about to ask how you do your job without talking to people. Then I realized you probably wouldn't answer that." I spoke, glad he didn't express if he was offended or not.

"You look tired, you should go before you drive too tired." I said, saying bye to the last customer in here.

He didn't answer and I sighed.

I took off my apron, removing all my bills onto the counter, putting the thing away before getting ready to close the place.

I put down all the blinds, coming back and he handed me the money straightened out, adding a $100 on the top.

"You always give huge tips. I don't understand how you can just give money like that to people who may not even deserve it. I mean, what if outside of here I was secretly a terrible person?" I asked, turning off the open sign.

He stood and I maneuvered around him, cleaning up, getting ready to close.

He followed me out.

I began in a direction, he followed me closely.

"There are only two things I can assume right now. You're preparing to kidnap me, or your walking me to my car." I asked before continuing my walk.

He lifted two fingers.

"I hope so, I own a Honda. If you want it, take it." I offered the keys.

He rolled his eyes.

"Ha! Something." I walked to my car.

I unlocked it, he opened my door and I studied him.

"Well thanks." I smiled, getting in.

He shut the door, backing up, watching me leave before he began walking the opposite direction.

Strange night. But alright.