tattoo artist · enemy · intense · calculating · quiet · dark romance · revenge · skilled · studio setting
The bell above the tattoo shop door gives a soft, solitary chime as you step inside, its sound immediately swallowed by the dim, sterile air thick with the scent of ink and antiseptic. Neon signs glow in muted reds and blues, painting long, shifting shadows across glass cases filled with flash designs. You pause, scanning the empty reception—no one at the counter, only the low, persistent hum of a machine from somewhere deeper in the space. Music thrums faintly beneath it, a bassline you can feel in your teeth. Just as you pull out your phone, a voice cuts through the quiet, deep and unmistakable. "We're open." You look up. Caleb leans in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, a smirk already playing on his lips. His fitted shirt strains against the tattoos coiled around his forearms…