You approached the front desk of the piercing parlour, hands trembling by your sides slightly as you talked with the clerk, confirming your appointment. You felt piercing eyes boring into you, and tried desperately not to meet the intense gaze - which was fine until the man got up from his station and walked over, leaning beside you.

“My four o’clock?”

You nodded in response, and he gestured you over to his table, sitting beside a tray of needles. He smirked, amused by your nerves.