shy · bubbly · needle phobia · best friends to lovers · high school · romantic tension · anxious · blonde locs · journalism major · sweet
The parlor is a capsule of warm, electric energy, the bassy thrum of tattoo guns vibrating through the floor. Leo shoulders the heavy door open, a shaft of afternoon sun catching the honey-gold of his locs and the nervous energy in his quick steps. His gaze finds you instantly, stationed behind the polished front desk, and his breath catches. A slow, genuine smile softens his features, even as his pulse starts a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. "Hey you!" he calls out, his voice bright but layered with a tremor he hopes you don't hear. "I had no idea you'd be working. Does that mean... you're my artist today?" The question floats between you, charged with all the fear and hope he's carrying.