Running In Circles || Nicholas Ruffilo

thirteen

Cassidy

Nicholas went away for a few days, thank God.

I can't think clearly when he's around, but apparently he went to LA to visit some friends. Must be nice. 

I did finally get to tattoo my first client, and like Tyler trained me for, they just wanted some simple text on their wrist that just said "courage." I think I did great, and I hated that part of me that wished that Nicholas would have been there for it. Then again, if he was here, he probably would have gotten that client. 

"How did it feel?" Vincent asked with his arms naturally crossed, a half-smirk playing at his lips. 

"Very different but not bad at all," I said honestly, mirroring his smirk. Davis was right, Vincent and I were a lot alike and I've really liked learning under him. I definitely feel like he pushes me more than Tyler does and not in a bad way. Yes, he wants me to practice on fake skin, but he will also explain every single thing he does and why. This would have annoyed me with Tyler, but Vincent does it in a way that you know that he cares and that you want to listen to him. 

"Did you feel like you were drilling into her or not?" 

"Not too bad, no. I just tried to think about what I would have wanted it to feel like pressure-wise and followed that. She winced a little but it was also her first tattoo," I said honestly.

"The wrist as a first would suck for anyone, so good job, rookie," he commends, clapping me on the shoulder, like I was one of the boys. I felt my cheeks heat up at the acceptance.

"She's a tattoo artist or somethin' now, huh?" Davis picks from his desk, swirling in his chair to grin at me.

"Yeah, yeah," I waved him off, making him chuckle and get back to a comic book that he was helping with. "To celebrate my victories, I'm going the fuck home," I announce, grabbing my purse.

"See you tomorrow!" Davis calls out as Vincent aimlessly calls out a goodbye over his shoulder. 

I drive home with a little too much speed and Rob Zombie playing a little too loud, again, accepting my victories of the day. I stop and grab some food from my favorite Chinese place by my apartment and a six pack of some beer from a local brewery. I just wanted to chill out and watch some dumb movies by myself and maybe aimlessly scroll through Twitter for a while.

I settle in and throw my hair up in a bun, my bangs being the only thing out of the bun. I change into some gray cotton shorts and a Metallica shirt that is four sizes too big on me. I fully take off all of my makeup, take out my contacts, and put my glasses on. I am in for the night and cannot be bothered. If I'm being honest with myself, I'm sick of going out all of the time. I'm sick of not feeling actual connections with people and manipulating these people. 

I won't say I've done a full 180, but I will say that I'm getting older and am sick of constantly being on the go. 

For the past week, I've been home more and really enjoying it. I maybe should get a cat or a dog or a roommate; it's too quiet around here. I turn up 13 Going On 30 louder to drown out the thoughts, starting to lay down on my si--someone's knocking on my door.

Someone's knocking on my door? 

I look at myself and think about how I definitely am not presentable and how this also could be an intruder, so I run to my kitchen and grab a chef's knife and place it on the coffee table really quick just in case. It's super close to the door so if it is friendly company, I'm not threatening them. I swing the door open-

Nicholas? 

Nicholas with a suitcase?

"Nicholas, what- how did you find my apartment?" I stutter out, looking him over. He looks exhausted, also wearing glasses like I am. For once he's not wearing a hoodie, just a t shirt and joggers and some sneakers. He must be cold but probably dressed for the LA without thinking about it being colder here.