He's a tattoo and piercing expert. He owns every location in the country. Anyone who wants to get something done goes through him first. Everyone is terrified of him; he's ruthless, violent, unkind, and a suspected murderer. She's nothing more than...
Riona follows him to the back of the parlor. Her eyes trail the row of chairs lined up at the back of the shop, falling on where he stands next to another boy. She would guess they are about the same age; the other boy might be slightly younger, but not by much.
"Come over here," he commands. He sits on the stool beside the tattoo chair, his legs spreading apart slightly. He pats his leg once, looking at her with an inviting smile.
"Stop messing around, War," the other boy mutters, rolling his eyes and casting a narrowed glare over at the girl.
War rolls his eyes, gesturing for Riona to move closer to him. Begrudgingly, she follows his instructions. Riona stands in front of him, her arms still crossed defiantly across her chest. He smiles softly again, shaking his head and moving her to stand in between his legs.
"War," the other boy warns, glaring at her again.
"Why don't you go up to the front, Mad?" War says, a smile still resting on his lips but his eyes hardening on the other boy.
The other boy, Mad, rolls his eyes but reluctantly follows his directions. War smiles at her, a menacing yet soft upturn of his lips. Riona shifts her weight from foot to foot, meeting his eyes warily.
"Now," he says, his eyes moving across her face, "what do you want your design to be?"
"Bu...butterfly," She stutters, internally rolling her eyes at her own stupidity.
He laughs softly, his leg barely brushing against her. "Alright, Butterfly," he says in a soft voice. "Now, where do I want to put it..."
"Not anywhere that can be seen-" she says, immediately silenced by his finger pressed to her lips.
"Sh, sh, sh," He says, shaking his head with his signature smile resting on his lips. "The location is my decision."
She sucks in a breath, pouting her lips almost involuntarily. He smiles again, his eyes drifting down to those puckered lips. "How about..." he says in a hushed voice, trailing his finger down her spine once more. Her eyes hold his, a silent plea inside of them. "I got it," he says, tapping a finger on her hip, "but I'm going to need you to undress."
"I..." she attempts to argue, this time, silenced only by a look from him.
"Good girl," he praises, nodding down to her shorts. "Get rid of them."
She slides her shorts down her legs, revealing a pair of cotton underwear that covers basically nothing. A light blush pinkens her cheeks as she removes the shorts fully, her curly hair falling over her face.
"Good," he says, "now lay down." Riona does as she's told, his hands moving to hold her legs down. "The tattoo is going to be here," he says, tapping a finger on the skin right below her hipbone.
She nods, unable to form words with his hands on her skin. He gets to work immediately, tracing the design onto her skin with extreme concentration. She watches him sketch the butterfly, her eyes taking in the features of his face. He places the sharpie onto the counter, retrieving his inking tools. She sucks in a breath, her feet moving nervously on the chair. He smiles up at her; a small, reassuring turn of his lips. She smiles back, almost unconsciously.
"Relax, alright?" He tells her, moving his thumb in soft circles on her inner thigh.
"I'm not too good with needles," She admits, the blush returning to her cheeks.
He laughs then; a full, loud, humor-filled sound where his eyes close and his head tilts back. "Didn't think to mention that a little earlier?" he questions, but it's not a harsh statement. He's still smiling as he sets the tools down.
"No, I can do it," she argues, pouting defiantly at him.
He laughs, shaking his head once more. "I'll be quick," he replies and Riona nods.
He traces the skin where the sharpie had marked, her tiny hands bawled into fists at her sides. Once he finished her tattoo, he watched her silently; her eyes shut tightly, her fists clenched, and her teeth biting into her bottom lip. "All done," he says, reluctantly drawing his eyes away from her lips, now a feverish shade of red.
"War, we've got a problem," Mad says, running into the back room. "Get her out of here. Now."
War applies the bandages quickly, securing them to her skin and pulling up her shorts. He hands Riona the cleaning supplies, telling her when to clean and when the bandage can be removed. He helps her to her feet, she sways slightly and grabs onto him for support.
"War," Mad warns again, this time in a harsher voice.
"Alright, alright," War growls back, "give me a second."
Mad runs back to the front, following the instructions he was given wordlessly. War looks from the front to Riona, his eyes hardening on her face as she clings to him.
"Will you be okay to get home from here?" He asks, his eyes darting back to the front.
"Yes, what... what's going on?" she asks, releasing her tight grip on his shoulders. "War?"
His eyes flick back to her, almost as if he never realized she knew his name. He grabs her arm, leading her to the back exit. "You need to leave now, don't come back unless I say it's safe."
"But..." She trails off, being pushed through the exit door gently. "wait, what about my brother?"
War's eyes find her's easily, laughter softly slipping from his lips. "All in good time, Butterfly. When's his birthday?"
"Wednesday," she replies, distracted by Mad running back into the room.
"War," he shouts, "get her out of here!"
"I'll add him to the appointment book," War tells her.
"How will I know if it's safe?" she asks, her eyes fearfully resting on the other boy in the room. "How will I know if you're... safe?"
War frowns at her, a confused look crossing his face. "I'll let you know. Trust me, you'll know."
"But..." Riona trails off. "Now go," he says, shoving her through the exit door once more and closing it. He stands there, staring at the door until Mad says "War, let's go!"
He draws his gun and approaches the front of the parlor, Mad following suit.
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