Red Ink

Part 23 - How to Win

"Alright. In a few hours, we'll rewrap it," Red explained. She whipped out her phone to set a reminder for good measure, then stood up from the couch and straightened her outfit. "Do you still feel loopy?"

When he looked up at her with lazy, happy eyes, she knew the answer.

"You probably have a few more hours before you'll be back to normal. You're not in any pain, are you?"

"I don't think so." Kirishima was sitting on her couch rather awkwardly– Red told him not to touch his back to anything, and it was taking every bit of brainpower to remember that rule, especially when all he wanted was to lay down again. It took a good four hours for her to finish the tattoo, and he didn't quite remember coming back upstairs, but he was too disoriented to care.

He liked being taken care of, he realized. Or maybe he liked the attention. How could he not enjoy the gentle touches? Her whisper soft voice asking if he felt alright? Her intoxicating perfume? He heavily considered getting hundreds of tattoos from Red, just for this soft-around-the-edges care he was so greedy for.

Was she this sweet with other clients, too? ...He didn't enjoy thinking about that as much.

She bent down a bit to be at his eye level, and that was enough to pull him from his thoughts. He watched her intently, selfishly, studying the way she held herself so shyly. Was she afraid of him? Was she nervous? He desperately wanted to know what she was thinking.

"Would you like to sleep it off? You're welcome to rest in bed."

He blinked at her. "With you?"

Her cheeks flushed and she stammered, "I was going to make dinner, but you can still–"

"Can I help?" Eijirou stumbled to his feet and Red had to use most of her strength just to keep the burly man upright.

"I–I appreciate the gesture, but I think you may need to sit this one out," she grunted, steadying him. When she looked up at him, she blinked in surprise– he had the saddest, most offended expression she'd ever seen on him and it was heartbreaking. "Eijirou–"

"I can help, really," he insisted. "I'm not very good at cooking, but–"

"You're very sweet, Eijirou, but you're in no place to help right now," she said, this time with a quiet laugh. "But you're welcome to sit at the counter."

His eyes shifted to the kitchen, once again mustering as much processing power as he could to figure out if the stool at the counter would be close enough to her. He seemed satisfied with the proximity, because his expression turned back into that goofy grin and he nodded. "Yeah, alright."

Red huffed out a breath of relief. Thank god. Kirishima was incredibly difficult to manhandle around the apartment.

~~~

"Do you have to work again tomorrow?" Kirishima complained. He was leaning against the countertop now, face in his hand and watching Red cook through droopy eyes.

"Only one other client, at 11:30. I'll rewrap your tattoo before I leave, and then again when I get home."

He frowned. "What do you mean, leave? Where are you going?"

Red paused her work at the cutting board and pursed her lips for a moment. "I meet with that client at a different location."

Eijirou sat up quickly with a scowl (a bit too quickly, and he had to catch himself before tumbling from the stool). "You do? I thought you only did that with me." All of a sudden, the comfortable haze he was in turned into something upsetting and his throat felt tight. Who did this other client think they were, meeting with her outside of the parlor? How unprofessional. That was for him only.