Rone
Rone sat perfectly still while Heather’s gentle hands applied the stencil to his arm. He wasn’t really worried, even though she’d already been straight up with him that the tattoo was probably going to take her five hours and that working in color hurt far more than doing just black and gray. He’d already worked up his nerve. Probably ten different times. And lost it ten different times.
“Have a look in the mirror there.” She pointed at the wall length mirror in the corner of the small room that was hers.
Gathering his courage, he slid off the edge of the table and walked slowly over to the mirror. He was hoping that if he took his time, he’d somehow come up with a magic way to keep it from hurting like hell. He knew he’d never live it down if he passed out on Heather. She’d forgive him for it, but he knew it was a story that would be repeated until they were well into being old and wrinkled together.
The thought sent a shiver of pleasure racing through him. He was flooded with the warmest sensation right after. He wanted that. He wanted to grow old with Heather more than anything. He couldn’t believe he was the one she’d picked. She could have had anyone. She was beautiful, wildly talented, witty, intelligent. She could have had anyone on earth, but she’d picked him. And she’d fought for him. His fiancé, the tiny little warrior. She was so damn special to him it made him want to weep some days. Which was really weird, because he wasn’t the kind of guy who did things like that. Ever.
“I think the placement is good. What do you think?”
Heather gave him his space. She leaned back on the stool she sat perched on. It was a strange shape, more of a saddle or a giant bike seat. He wasn’t sure how she handled it, bent over people all day. He knew that she was already complaining about back pain. They’d been talking about taking up yoga together. Yoga. And he was damn excited about it, because the truth was, he’d do anything for her.
“I like it.” He actually did. Heather was an amazing artist. She’d drawn the ship and compass exactly as he wanted it to look. And despite the fact that he’d bugged her about it, it really did symbolize what she meant to him. She really was his sense of direction, always guiding him.
It might be corny as hell, but he was absolutely beyond caring what other people thought. If it was corny, then he was more than happy to be a complete cliché.
“My mom thinks I’m converting you to the dark side.” Heather grinned. Her gray blue eyes sparkled with devilment.
“Maybe you are. Although, I’m sure Leanne will give in some day and get a tattoo herself. Doesn’t everyone?”
“I have clients who are over eighty.”
“I know. I think that’s awesome. Those people have balls of steel.”
“Dear god, I wouldn’t know. I just do their tattoos.”
He let out a bark of laughter that echoed through the room. “I guess I should sit back down and let you get to work. Promise me you’re going to use that numbing cream as soon as you can.”
“We’ve already numbed you before we got here and yes, I’ll put it on as I go.”
“The tube said not to do that.”
“I can’t believe you read that. They all say don’t do it, but I do it if the client wants it done. I’ve never had anyone have a reaction. Certainly no one has died on me yet.”
“I bet it helps.”
“It really takes the fire out of it, I find.”
“Alright.” Rone knew he couldn’t stall any longer. Heather hadn’t exactly convinced him to do this. She’d just dropped more than a few hints, that it would be nice to tattoo him.
“Don’t worry. I know for sure I don’t have a heavy hand. I’ve tattooed myself.”
“I know. I can’t believe you did that.”
“That empty spot on my leg was begging for a skull. It made sense, given that I needed to practice on someone.”
“There were people lining up at the door for your art from day one.”
She shrugged as she started playing around with her equipment, getting her station ready. Rone gave his head a shake, trying to banish the black spots that were closing in on the edge of his vision.
I am not going to pass out. I am not going to pass out. I am not going to pass out. He hoped that telling himself enough times made it true.
“Come sit down, Rone. You’re making me nervous. It looks like you’re going to pass out. Drink some juice and settle back. All you have to do is get through the first twenty minutes. After that you settle in and everything is easy.”
“Easy for you, maybe.” He did sit back down. He swung his massive legs onto the chair and leaned back, leaving his arm free, careful not to smudge the stencil. “I feel like we should have made this smaller.”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s small or not. It’s going to take the same amount of time.”
“There are way too many lines in here. Maybe you should- uh- color it in a different day.”
Heather glanced up, a knowing glint in her eyes. “That’s a hard no. I’m never going to get you back in here if I let you go now. You don’t want to have to do this twice and heal it twice. Trust me, the instant gratification will be worth it.”
“That’s what you said the first time I was here.”
“And was it?”
“I don’t know. It hurt like hell after. That’s all I could concentrate on.”
Heather’s smile didn’t waver. “Okay, well, maybe you and I are a little bit different in that regard.”
“So color a different day?”
“No way. Lean back. I’m going to start now.”
She gripped his arm gently, but firmly. He braced himself for the bite of pain. When it came, it was still a little bit shocking. He hated that part, the part that felt most like the stab of a needle. He wished he didn’t have a petrifying fear of shots. As it was, he usually fainted when he had to get his blood taken. He knew what it looked like, since he was so big. The whole bigger they are, harder they fall… it was true. It was so damn true.
Heather outlined away, getting into her work. He glanced over at her face, studying her features to keep himself from thinking about what was actually going on. He loved the way her delicate brow creased into a small frown as she focused. The purse of her perfect, sweet lips, was so incredibly beautiful he ached to kiss them. She had her long hair tied up above her head to keep it out of the way, but wispy little dark strands framed her forehead on either side.
“So, you think one day my mom will cave and get a tattoo?”
“If she did, she should get it from you. It really is okay.”
“See, I told you. It’s already been twenty minutes. It’s going numb isn’t it?”
Hardly. He nodded bravely, just to please her. “It’s starting to feel less like a sharp poke and more like a hot ache.”
“That sounds perfectly sexual.”
He almost laughed, but stopped himself in time, since he didn’t want to move and mess up what she was doing. She worked confidently and quickly. It was easy to see why she was so busy, her wait list already stretching out for months. Her books were always closed. She’d had to explain what that meant to him. It was an odd way to say she wasn’t taking appointments anymore since she was way too busy already.
“Perfectly sexual. Is there anything less than perfect with me?”
Those siren lips of hers quirked into a shadow of a smile. “Nice to see that you’re humble as always.”
“As always.” She pulled a hard line then and Rone grimaced. “You going to use some of that numbing cream yet?”
“Not for a little bit, I’m afraid. It will take the stencil off. Honestly, I’m surprised you can feel this at all. That stuff we put on before we came is a favorite with my clients. Some of them say they can’t feel a thing.”
“They must be really lucky then.”
“I think it’s just your own fear that’s making it hurt worse. Your arm is like a rock. You’re pretty tense.”
“I can’t help that.”
“I have something to take your mind off the pain.”
“What’s that?” He was a little surprised by the note of uncertainty in her voice.
Heather didn’t glance up. She kept working away at his arm and the fire started to set in. She continued to pull a line and then she paused and those gray blue eyes of hers met his. “We’re going to have a baby.”