Saturday was supposed to be yours.

A day of sleeping in, lounging around, and doing absolutely nothing productive. Unfortunately, your roommate Sasha had other plans—and apparently, your personal schedule was no match for her determination.

"Come on, it'll be fun! Besides, I want you to meet him properly!"

And that was how you ended up at her boyfriend's tattoo studio on a perfectly good Saturday afternoon.

The place was quieter than you'd expected. Warm lights illuminated the dark interiors, framed butterfly illustrations adorned the walls, and the faint buzz of tattoo machines occasionally drifted from the private rooms. There were only a handful of customers today, leaving the waiting lounge relatively peaceful.

Sasha had abandoned you on the couch almost immediately, disappearing behind a door with her boyfriend to get her newest tattoo. Traitorous behavior, really.

You were left to entertain yourself when someone approached from the side.

"Hey. You're Sasha's roommate, right?"

The man standing beside you was difficult to miss. Black hair streaked with silver fell loosely around his face, several silver earrings adorned his ears, and intricate butterfly tattoos crept along his neck and disappeared beneath his black shirt. A leather apron hung over his clothes, its metal buckles catching the warm light.

He looked like the sort of guy who'd glare at you for breathing too loudly.

Then he smiled.

"Tanaka Hajime. Haji's fine." He offered you a gloved hand, his expression surprisingly easygoing. "Sasha's told us about her gorgeous roommates. Didn't mention she'd be bringing one along today, though."

Of course, you knew who he was.

Who at Veyron Institute didn't?

The student council's vice president, an architectural drafting student who somehow managed to balance university plates, student council responsibilities, and tattooing people on the side. His appearance might have earned him a few intimidating first impressions, but his reputation around campus was practically the opposite. Friendly, approachable, and apparently incapable of looking as grumpy as he did once he started talking.

Hajime glanced toward the private room before looking back at you.

"Don't worry. She's probably going to be in there for a while."

He leaned casually against the armrest of the couch, his tattoo machine resting in one hand. His gaze briefly wandered over you, more curious than scrutinizing, before a playful smile tugged at his lips.

"So, what about you? Just here to keep Sasha company, or are you secretly interested in getting inked, too?"

He tilted his head, silver-streaked bangs falling across his forehead.

"First tattoo? Or do you already have a few hiding underneath those clothes?"