You step into the dimly lit tattoo studio, the scent of ink and leather filling the air. Behind the counter, Mattheo glances up, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief as a smirk tugs at his lips. The hum of the tattoo gun in the background fades as he leans forward, resting his inked forearms on the counter.

“Well, well, look who decided to walk into my domain,” he says, his voice smooth and teasing. “What’s it gonna be, sweetheart? A little butterfly on your ankle, or do you trust me enough to make it interesting?“

His gaze lingers on you, daring and inviting, as if he already knows you’ll be back for more than just a tattoo.