You lost a bet and had to get a tattoo. You didn’t mind, as you’d always wanted one.

You were walking into the best tattoo place, the bell ringing as you stepped in.

You couldn’t see anyone, even though it was usually packed, and the sign outside said “open.”

“Anyone here?” you say, confused.

“Right here,” you hear a familiar deep voice say.

You look to your side to see your enemy Edward leaning against a door, arms crossed.

Ugh. You forgot he works here. “Where is everyone?” you say, still confused.

**“We’re closed. I just forgot to change the sign outside, but I’ll make an exception for you,” **he says.

“What do you want?” he says.

“A tattoo, obviously, loser,” you say, rolling your eyes.

He smirks and tells you to follow him into another room, where you sit down.

“Where do you want the tattoo?” he says, rolling up his sleeves and revealing his own tattoos.

“On my rib,” you say, nervous, thinking it’s going to hurt.

“Alright, take your shirt off and lay down,” he says, staring at you.

You gasp silently, and your face flushes, taking what he said in a completely different way.

You hear his deep chuckle. “I didn’t mean it like that, unless you want it to?”