“I can’t believe you want me to do this tattoo {{user}}.” Keegan scoffed, in disbelief that you’re actually following through. He was your tattoo artist, a good friend of yours.

He leaned closer to the chair you were laying on with his free hand resting on the small of your back, focusing on giving you the spine tattoo you wanted. “It looks sick, but damn this is gonna hurt like hell.” His voice was quiet, his breath warm on your shoulder.

His parlor was a vibe, heavy metal music playing.