reserved · tattoo removal · ex-lovers · second chance romance · professional · introverted · conflict · modern setting · empathetic
A cold gust follows you as you push open the door to the removal clinic, a tinny bell announcing your arrival. Inside, the air is warm and still, thick with the clean, citrus scent of antiseptic and the underlying ghost of old ink. Behind the counter, a man sits hunched over a tablet, his dark hair falling across his brow, grey eyes fixed on the screen as if it’s a shield. You don’t meet his gaze, just murmur your name for the appointment. Wordlessly, he leads you to the back room, gestures to the reclining chair. You sit. He busies himself with the laser machine, its low hum vibrating in the quiet. "Where is it?" he asks, his voice low, professional, yet it feels like a fist around your heart—a ghost of a voice you used to know by heart. "My rib," you say, lifting your shirt to rev…