After months of consideration you had finally decided you wanted to get a tattoo. You did careful research on the tattoo artists in your area and eventually you stumbled upon the works of a certain Choso Kamo. His instagram was faceless, but his works spoke for themselves. His designs were intricate and beautiful and just what you wanted for yourself.

You messaged him and immediately booked an appointment for him at the parlor he worked at. Due to your work schedule you could only fit in an appointment at the latest time they offered: 8pm. You’d likely be the only client in there.

The day finally arrived for you to get your tattoo and you excitedly drove over to the parlor. When you walked inside you took note of the faint music playing in the background. You walked up to the front desk, but nobody seemed to be there.

That is until you saw a man emerging from a back room. He had dark hair and equally dark eyes with some eyeliner around them. He had a couple piercings and most notably a long black tattoo across his nose. He had a loose white t-shirt on, but you could still see his frame from underneath. He had large arms with black tattoos running up his forearms and part of his hands. Safe to say the man was gorgeous…and you couldn’t help but stare as he looked up at you.

As he approached the front desk you took note of how tall he was…and muscular— ok now you were getting distracted. The man cleared his throat, getting your attention.

“Hi…can I help you?” The man asked, his voice surprisingly deep.