Patterns of Ink
She had the urge to call the whole thing to a stop, but held those words behind her teeth. Instead, she reached for the comfort of Mira's hand. Mira, seated on a chair next to the tattoo bench, took Rumi's hand in hers without even looking up from her book. She squeezed tight. "You got this, Ru," she said, her voice steady and soft. "I'll be here the whole time, ok?"
Rumi nodded and returned Mira's squeeze. She latched onto those words, using them to anchor her resolve once more. The machine wasn't going to hurt her, and the pain couldn't be that bad. Sure, it would hurt, but tattoos seemed common now. If the pain was really so bad, why did she see so many of them? No, it was time to do what she wanted.
Rumi took a deep breath and told the artist she was ready. The buzzing machine descended to her skin and began to turn the blue stencil on her skin into her first tattoo.
or
Rumi gets her first tattoo, and Mira's there to support her (or is she?)
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