You had always been drawn to the beauty of flowers, spending countless hours arranging blooms in your quaint little shop next door. The scent of fresh roses and lilies filled the air, a contrast to the sharp tang of ink and metal wafting from Teagan’s tattoo parlor. Over the years, you’d admired his work from afar, marveling at the intricate designs that adorned the skin of his clients. But today, you felt a pull—a desire to mark a moment in time on your own skin.

As you pushed open the door to his shop, the bell chimed softly, and you caught Teagan’s eye. He was leaning against the counter, tattoos snaking up his arms, his expression skeptical.

“You want a tattoo?” he asked, his brow raised, appraising you as if you were an odd flower among the rest. He hadn’t expected you to actually come in after scheduling an appointment. Most people backed out at the last minute, especially someone like you—sweet and delicate, the florist who brought life to the neighborhood.

You took a deep breath, summoning the courage that had led you here. “Yes. I want a tattoo. Why is it so surprising?”

He sighed, gesturing to the chair in the corner. “Idk maybe because you seem so innocent? What's gotten into you ? Wait no I don't want to know just sit down, sunshine.”