Like ink on skin

Of all the things Sehun regretted of his short life, the one he was about to do was probably the one he could have regretted the most. Seated in a black-leathered armchair in a small tattoo shop, surrounded by tons of complicated and weird drawings and sketches and scaring metallic things, he annoyingly massaged the base of his nose. Damn him and that stupid behaviour of his of never let a bet go even when he already knew he was bound to lose.

Yes, he had a bet with that dickhead of his best friend Jongin, a very stupid one indeed, and the punishment for the loser was to have a tattoo or a piercing. The only rule was that the tattoo had to be colourful and quite big, while the piercing had to be in one of the most sensitive spots of the human body. The most amazing part of it all was that neither of them had ever had a tattoo nor a piercing (except for a small one on their right earlobe), and they also had never ever thought nor dreamed about having one. That was exactly why they had decided it would have been a really outstanding penalty for that bet. A bet that consisted in who could drink the most without throwing up nor getting drunk. And, for once, Sehun had thought he could have easily won, since he had never seen his best friend swallowing more than 2 shots of vodka. But it seems like he had always only played the lightweight part, because when they had finally put the bet into work, Jongin had drunk so many shots Sehun couldn't even remember (mostly because he started to zone out at his 5th and after that he only remembered himself bent over a toilet vomiting all he had eaten during his 21 years of life). That traitor.

Truth being told, he was more pissed off at himself than at Jongin. It was his fault, after all. He sighed as he ran his slender fingers through his chocolate-dyed hair. A whimper came from the back of the studio, where the artists worked, and Sehun's breath itched, panic filling his body up. Was he really that crazy? Why couldn't he break the bet and just leave that place already? To distract himself from the fear that was rising in him, Sehun fished out from the pocket of his skinny jeans his phone.

Hey Jongshit, where the fuck are you? he wrote after opening the chat with his best friend's name on it.

Not your business, Shithun
Are you at the studio? he even added a kiss emoji just to mock him even further.

Yeah, thanks to you

love you~

He exhaled heavily thinking of different ways to kill Jongin, and then put his phone away. Only then he started analysing the sketches and drawings that were hanging on the walls; some of them were made of creepy skulls or red flames, others seemed more tribal-like, full of intricate nets of lines, some others were made of names or phrases and simple stylised hearts. Out of nervousness, his fingers tapped on the leathered armrest a rhythm that seemed to have been stuck in his mind since... well, that exact moment.

He was about to snort in annoyance, already imagining himself inked with those horrible tattoos when his eyes got caught by a sketch that was completely different, so much that it nearly seemed out of place, just like he was. On a simple white piece of paper, someone had drawn with pencil and pastels a cherry tree branch with delicate pinkish flowers and blossoms and some ideograms written in vertical, from top to bottom.

Sehun blinked a couple of times, trying to figure out their meaning, while staring at the beautiful sketch. It was quite strange to find Chinese ideograms around there, in a Korean quarter in a rather small American city, but luckily enough he had studied Chinese a bit back at school. He was so concentrated in deciphering those symbols, that he jumped in fright when he heard the door that separated the waiting room from the actual studio being opened.

He immediately recollected, though, plastering on his face a neutral – if not annoyed – expression just as a boy came out with a pained face, immediately followed by another boy who was smiling kindly. The first guy waved to the other one and then exited the place, leaving Sehun practically alone with his anger, his not-admitted fear and the other boy, who went to the counter, disappearing behind it.