Beneath the Ink (COMPLETE)

You.

Cecelia May

I spun in his chair, the girl I first met coming up to me.

She offered a hand and I stood.

I took it.

"I'm Maddie, the piercer here." She smiled.

"Cecelia. Lovely to meet you." I said.

"You're stunning. God those eyes." She analyzed me.

I laughed.

"I love your purple hair. It's bold. A gorgeous color on you." I complimented.

"Ugh no wonder you stole him. Fine as hell and sweet? Combo." She shook her head.

I bowed, teasing, going along with the joke.

I pointed at the person waiting by the counter.

"That's him, Beverley!" She shouted and he came from the back with a new set of black gloves on, a vile of ink.

He walked to the front.

Maddie spoke for him, and I liked how well she understood it. Easy going, not at all judgmental.

I got out of his seat, going to the plastic chair.

She came back and looked at me confused.

I just smiled.

He went to his tray, grabbing the stencil.

He came back.

"You know, I was thinking of adjusting the placement." She smiled at him.

He gave nothing.

"Maybe on my upper hip? It's such a large tattoo for my back so maybe something more feminine." She shrugged.

He looked at her legs.

She glanced at me.

I just crossed my legs, watching.

She was fairly beautiful, her black hair, pin straight, in a nice ponytail, she had a sleeve on one arm, it danced a bit across her chest, but her legs were blank.

So I understood why she thought that'd be cute because it would work.

"I was thinking my left side since my right upper body is done. You know?" She hoped for an answer.

Nothing.

He patted the headrest.

She laid on her right side, her left up.

He grabbed a marker.

"I'm thinking high up, more hip than thigh." She said.

She stood as he backed up, removing her shorts.

She folded them, setting them down before lying down.

She was wearing a G-string. I found those impossibly uncomfortable.

She laid back down, his face stone as he marked.

He showed her.

"Maybe more back? Toward the butt a bit? Yeah." She nodded when he made another mark, erasing the other by dipping his fingertip in water and smearing.

Then I realized he looked a bit uncomfortable.

But he continued. This was his job and he didn't have to deal with skin.

He put the stencil on, wetting it, letting it sit before peeling the paper off.

He had her stand and look in the mirror.