The Tattoo Artist - 𝘡𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘈𝘜

Fucking Ken Doll

When Harrys shows up to the tattoo shop, Harrys spies  Zayn. Zayn spinning in a chair, chewing on the back of his pen. Sketching away in a notepad, and he looks so at peace that Harry doesn't  want to go inside. Harry gazes  at him for a little. Confused why he was nervous? He muster's the courage to open the shop door. Zayn looks up, his brown eyes recognizing me. "Hey," he says getting up.

"Hi," I smile, the smile that shows off my dimples. "Here for my appointment."

"Yup," Zayn clicks at a computer screen. I grab my phone scrolling, fabricating the appearance of being busy. "Okay you're set."

He leads me to the chair, and I take a moment to fully take in the shop. It's a glamorous  place, it's vintage and has modern decal. The overhead lights are a mixture of old chandeliers and light bulbs just attached to strings. Assorted vintage posters litter the brick walls.

He comes back moments later with a smile, and those twinkling eyes that fuck Harry up. "Do you have a design chosen?"

"Um yeah actually," Harry fiddled with his shirt realizing he was a fool for wearing a long sleeve shirt. "A Pink Floyd, dark side of the moon tattoo."

"You're a Floyd fan?" Zayn asked leaning against the wall, Harry felt a stir of butterflies in his stomach. Men, were beautiful to Harry. His sexual orientation was a highly debated topic among the general public. Harry knew he was Harry, he didn't need to label himself for anyone. He liked men and women, pillowy breast's were as beautiful as the rippling lean masculinity he craved at moments.

"Yeah of course," Harry stifled a laugh, "this sounds very basic but I want a dark side of the moon tattoo."

"Are you kidding?" Zayn said, a cross between amusement and shock written on his face, "I have one of those actually. Well great minds think alike you know."

"What's your favorite off the album?" Harry asked Zayn.

"Brain Damage," Zayn gave a small smile, it made his eyes sparkle in all sorts of ways, "I remember it and eclipse so clearly when I listened to the album the first time," Zayn now has a strange dreamy look on his face and pauses mid sentence, "and you?"

"My favorite is actually eclipse if I'm gonna be honest," Harry smiles the smile that Jeff told him to use on interviewers.

"Stop it," He says laughing, his eyes crinkle and Harry thinks it's so beautiful. "That cheesy smile isn't helping anything mate. Fucking Ken doll. And why the hell you talk like you're in a press conference all the time."

"Hey," Harry starts laughing a little, "you grow accustomed to your settings okay?"

"Sure, I wouldn't know," Zayn smiles. "Anyways do you have any reference photo. We probably have one in the back. I think I have a picture of mine actually, middle-aged dads love their floyd."

"Where do you have your tattoo?" Harry asked in a flirtatious tone, which honestly he had no clue how to flirt, people usually threw themselves on him. 

"Um my arm," Zayn leaned over and took off his hoodie, making a small show of a simple action. Harry leaned over and for a moment their eyes unlocked and Zayn felt butterflies stir in his abdomen. "here it is." He showed Harry the simple tattoo.

"Cool, thats like a lot like I want mine to look like actually," Harry admitted, leaning back in his seat. 

"Cool, Cool," Zayn said, "and where would you want the tattoo?"

"Um," Harry pondered for a second, "my arm as well." Zayn's eyebrows went up and his eyes smiled for a second and Harry thought it was exquisite. 

"Kind of like," Zayn started then mumbled something Harry couldn't understand. 

"Like what?" Harry asked.

"Like matching tattoos," Zayn said not meeting Harry's eyes and the slightest blush crept over his face. 

"Matching Tattoos." Harry echoed, "I like the sound of that."