la-sangradura:
Taron was grateful that he could finally pull himself out of front desk duty. He was weary of tattooing just anyone, an underlying fear that someone would be able to trace his work back to his apprenticeship in Massachusetts. It had been three years since the program had relocated him to Las Vegas, and he had yet to be caught. His former partner hadn’t been so lucky.
He was selective of the tattoos he did do, and when Stella had come in with a concept he found himself itching to sketch out, he had to give in. To cover up anything using his style was a challenge, single needle being a tedious medium that required a careful eye. He had found the perfect way to manipulate an old tattoo into a new one, and he was hooked on the chance to do it again.
“It depends on whether or not you’ll try to control the music,” Taron said, standing up from his seat and turning away to lead her to back before the smirk could be seen on his face. “I didn’t think you’d show with how last minute the opening was.”
“I’ll only control it if you start to play something shitty,” Stella remarks. The woman liked to consider herself fairly open in terms of her music taste but she would draw the line if something annoying was playing in the background of her session. She was not sure how long she would be here but long enough that she wanted something she could actually vibe with.
She walks towards the back with him, growing excited for what was about to come. “I think you might vastly underestimate me then. It’s been a long week so I thought, what would be the perfect solution? Going to my favorite shop and hearing that tattoo gun. Here’s to hoping I’ll be your best appointment yet,” the blonde jokes again.
