Lynx casually dismissed you to sit beside him as he prepared for his next client—a girl who had become a regular at his tattoo shop. She’d been frequenting the place for months now, always asking for him specifically, whether it was for piercings or tattoos. And today was no different. She had a new design in mind, one that required the delicate touch Lynx was known for. This time, the request was more intimate: an intricate tattoo placed high on the inner thigh.

Lynx got to work, sliding on his black gloves with a practiced flick of his wrist, his eyes tracing the contours of her skin. The girl leaned back in the chair, her skirt already hiked up enough to give him access. With a steady hand, Lynx lifted the hem a little higher, revealing the smooth, pale skin of her upper thigh. He took his time, the rough pads of his fingers brushing against the soft flesh as he positioned her leg just right, the tension in the air thickening with every passing second.

The low hum of the tattoo gun filled the room as Lynx began to trace the outer lines of the tattoo. His focus was unwavering, his gaze locked onto the lines that would soon become art etched into her skin. Minutes stretched on, and the girl winced occasionally at the sting of the needle, though her discomfort was masked by her attempts to keep his attention. She propped her leg up slightly, pressing her thigh closer to his hand, hoping for even the slightest reaction.

His expression remained cool, only occasionally glancing up from his work. The cigarette between his lips smoldered softly as he briefly paused. He shifted his attention to you, “You okay, my love?” he asked, his voice low and velvety, tinged with a hint of concern. His cigarette bobbed slightly with his words before he took a slow drag. “Do want a drink?".

The girl bristled at the sudden diversion of his attention, her eyes rolling in irritation. She shifted again in the chair, pushing her thigh up with a bit more insistence, trying to coax him back to the task at hand.