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“Oh.” It’s not what I’m expecting, and I gently tug my arm out of his hand to rest it at my side gingerly, like the silvery scars that march up to my forearm still hurt. When I look at him, I see that he’s still staring at my arm thoughtfully, brows furrowed, and I wish I could tell what he was thinking because it doesn’t look like the typical pity I’m used to.
I curl my fingers into my palm and watch him, seeing his face cycle through a range of reactions until settling on a bright grin that he tips up to meet my eyes with. “So you like flowers and animals?” He assumes. “Any other tattoos you want to show me?”
“I have one on my thigh,” I admit. “But I don’t really know how to show you that one withoutflashingyou as well.”
He snorts and pulls away as if he wasn’t expecting the words. “Flowers and an animal?” he says, and I nod. “I get the gist. Though I would look at it if you offered.”
“I’m not offering.”
“What about birds? Do you like birds?” He starts sketching roughly in his notebook, and when I nod, it takes me a second to realize he’s too busy with what he’s doing to notice the movement.
“Oh. Yeah, I like birds. Ravens, crows, falcons. Bluebirds? I like most birds, actually.” Contrary to my dismissal about the bird books Sera had brought to the shop to attempt to sell.
“I don’t think I’m going to tattoo a bluebird on you,” he chuckles. “Where do you want to get it? Or do I get to come up with that as well?” He doesn’t seem turned off by the prospect. If anything, he seemsexcitedby it.
So I hesitate, changing my words in my head, and ask. “Where doyouthink I should get it?”
“Easy.” He taps his pencil on the paper and looks up with green eyes that glitter. “Back of your neck. Just at the base of it.”
“Where I’ll never get to see it?Got it,” I agree, nodding sagely. “I’m joking. That’s kind of where I was thinking, anyway?” He goes back to his sketch, and I add, “Isn’t this where you ask me about my budget?”
“Sure it is.” He doesn’t look up this time. “What’s your budget for this piece, Ari?”
“Two-fifty.” I can probably go to three, but I’d like to start out lower so that I can tip him more than twenty bucks.
“Perfect.” He continues to sketch, and when he turns the notebook to show me, I’m surprised at howgoodhis sketch actually looks. “Something like this okay?”
It is. The design is a duo of ravens breaking through what looks like a bunch of different flowers that scatter along the design. And I can’t help but love it for the detail and the uniqueness of it.
“Absolutely.”
“Great.” He hops to his feet and brandishes the sketchpad. “Let me go clean it up, all right? And get it printed for you. Give me a few minutes?” He hesitates and adds. “Do you want anything to drink? I have pizza, too if you want it. Sincesome peoplewere ungrateful for the dinner I bought them.”
I snort and shake my head. “No, I’m good, actually.” I don’t want to tell him that excitement and nerves have my stomach a little too unsteady for food or even water. Though I’m not surewhy.
The smile slides from my face as he disappears back into the hallway, and I settle back on the chair with my feet shaking from side to side. Normally I’m much more excited than this, and I don’t have any doubt in my mind that I’m doing the right thing.
But this time feels different, somehow. As if the storm that’s nearing us is trying to warn me off of getting it, and my body is reacting to that somehow.
There’s nothing wrong here Ari, I tell myself, repeating it over and over in my head.There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just a tattoo, and it doesn’t change anything.
