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“I only do Bratva family. You married this one, so yes. I will do for you the art into your skin.” He added a flourish of his hand, sitting back and eyeing his handiwork before reaching for the chemicals to wash it off. He’d finished more quickly than either I or Manya had apparently expected. “Up,” he said.
I followed his direction, getting up from the seat only to have Tanner gesture Manya into it without a breath of pause between.
“You write down here what you want,” Tanner instructed, getting up to trade out his supplies.
As I buttoned my shirt back up, my attention was caught by a large man passing through the doors. His skin was darker than the jacket that he wore and covered with white spider-webbed tattooing. He grinned at me, his teeth flashing in the fluorescent lighting.
For a moment I felt myself tense, my gaze meeting his curiously, waiting to see which move he would make. His grin just grew brighter though, his head dipping respectfully and his eyes moving to Tanner. The interest in his gaze there was unmistakable, and I felt my surprise double.Oh.
I hadn’t considered that. The possessive, warm way that the man looked over Tanner made me feel at once like I was intruding on something private and being trusted enough to see something that few others were allowed. I cleared my throat and nodded back, resolving to ask someone about it later.
Without a word the large man fell back around the corner, and my attention turned back to the room, where I was surprised to hear the sound of the tattoo machine already going. Tanner was bent over Manya’s arm, shielding it from my view for how delicate an area he was working with. Manya wasn’t looking at me, or at Tanner, her eyes fixed on her wrist that the tattoo gun was moving over. A small, pleased smile played over her lips.
“You didn’t want to check and see if I’d like the design?” I teased, leaning with my hip against the chair behind me and almost laughing as Manya’s gaze shot up. There wasn’t guilt in her expression though, or even hesitation, rather a sort of mischievous provocation.
“You didn’t ask me about yours,” she returned blithely, lifting her chin.
“That’s very different, my little tigrenok,” I snorted. I was even more surprised when Tanner snorted back, unexpected laughter shaking his shoulders. Manya’s face flushed a quick bright red before she glanced back down.
“This was a good choice,” Tanner said, turning the tattoo gun off and surprising anyone within hearing distance by the warmth of his voice. “You come to me, Comrade Koalistia, whenever you are ready for more art, da?”
He stood up from his chair and walked off towards the sink in the corner of the room, leaving me to face Manya alone. I lifted my eyes expectantly as she held her wrist in front of her face, turning it this way and that as if to see how the light changed it. I watched as her expression went from one of ardor to one of worry, flashing up to me.
Unable to wait, I crossed the little space between us, took her hand and looked down at the Cyrillic lettering spanning the width of her wrist. ‘Tigrenok’ spread from one side to the other, done so delicately that it almost seemed to have blurred into her skin completely.
Tigrenok. . . .
My chest seized in a way that I didn’t have words. I captured her mouth with my own, burying the words there.
Tigrenok. The meaning was clear, whether she meant for it to be that way or not.I knew what it meant for me.
