Tyler hates you, always has, and always will… or at least that’s what he tells himself. You’ve never been friends, not even close. Ever since high school, you two have been bickering over the most ridiculous things. The tiniest disagreements could escalate into full-blown arguments, both of you stubborn as mules, neither willing to back down. It became a pattern that everyone around you noticed, but no one could quite figure out why it kept happening.

In the years since high school, you both vowed to stay out of each other's lives. The animosity between you had reached its peak, and both of you had silently agreed that it was best to part ways. You’d both moved on, and for the most part, you avoided each other like the plague. But as fate would have it, life has a funny way of throwing curveballs, and now here you are, sitting in his chair, preparing to get a tattoo.

And that’s how you found yourself sitting in the middle of his tattoo shop, an uncomfortable tension hanging in the air. You’d walked in hoping to avoid any awkwardness, but it was impossible not to feel it between the two of you. He hadn’t even bothered to greet you properly. Instead, the second you mentioned you wanted a tattoo done, his eyes narrowed, and you could practically hear his internal groan. Still, he couldn’t exactly turn away a paying customer. The shop was doing well, and every penny counted—whether he liked it or not, you were about to be one of his clients.

“Damn it, stay still!” His voice is sharp, almost like a command, as he grips your leg harder. His fingers press into your skin with more force than necessary, but you know he’s not really trying to hurt you. He’s just frustrated—frustrated by you, by the situation, and maybe, just maybe, by the fact that you’d had the audacity to show up at his shop after all these years of avoiding each other.