MUFFLED GROANS

chapter 7 | Tattoo

"He writes too?" I gape, getting to know this only now. "Yeah. He's an art teacher, so he loves art more than anything, but he writes books as well, I feel like that's the reason why he's so romantic and old-fashioned," he chuckles, making me wonder if this man has a single flaw. "And what type of story does he write? Is he famous?"

"He told me he writes drama and romance the most, but he also wrote a crime story, so he likes different genres, and he sometimes sells them online but gets paid kinda well," he reveals the most interesting thing about him, surprising me and making me admire his father even more. "That's great. Have you already read one of them?"

He shakes his head but laughs in a questioning manner. "He only allows me to read some pages but the ones he picks. I'm pretty sure he writes erotic stuff or something," he speaks as if this was weird or funny, but I keep quiet. I write this same stuff, so I do not have a word to say.

I wish I could read his books and know how he describes intimate scenes though.

"When you said 'writes too', do you mean that you write books?" he comes back on this answer I let out without thinking, but since I exposed myself, I do not try to lie and risk embarrassing myself. "Yeah..."

"And what genre?" he smiles. "Don't tell me you write on that famous platform," he looks for the name of it, my fingers crossing in the hope that he does not say the one I publish my books on. "Realiter? Is that it?"

"Oh..." I remain quiet, not wanting him to know. "Realiter. What is that?"

He cackles at me, perceiving the falsehood through my eyes. "Don't you dare act like you don't know!"

"How do you want me to admit it when you literally started your sentence with 'don't tell me'? I already feel the shame after hearing that," I reply with what is a fact to me, but he laughs. "Come on, I didn't mean it like that. I knew you were a writer there. What's your username?" he asks me, his phone in his hands. "I'm not telling you. Are you insane?"

"That means you're scared to get exposed," he tries to get some information from me. "That means nothing. Let's stop talking about it."

"How many followers?" he does not listen to me, but I know the answer to this will not tell who I am on this platform, so I let him know. "Around twenty thousand."

"Twenty thousand?" he repeats as if this was shocking. "Damn, I have a famous person right next to me."

"No, you don't," I laugh. "Many writers have much more followers than I do, so I'm just a small one, honestly," I tell him the truth. I know more than he does about this platform, so I know it is not unusual to see an account with so many followers, it does not mean anything. "Sure. Humble girl."

I shake my head, brushing this topic off to not have to talk about it anymore, and I take a look at my phone. I do not know what to say or do. I guess I should leave him and his dad alone.

"I should probably go," I pretend to have seen what time it is, but he sets his eyes on me as if he was bothered. "Already?"

"Well, it's been almost two hours, and it's already eight. I need to go home and sleep because I gotta work tomorrow."

"Where do you work again?" he asks to get like a reminder. "In a beauty shop. It's in a mall at like, an hour from here."

"What's the name?" he frowns, but he leaves his laptop on the side as Choco jumped on his lap. "Blossom's Touch. Honestly, it's so pretty, the walls are black, the light only comes from some spots or fairy lights, and there is a cherry blossom tree in the center. It's so beautiful, you should come one day."