[COMPLETED]
❝Death is inevitable. It's a promise made to us at birth.❞
Arielle is a studious young woman striving to be a chef. Her life is full of going to class, reading textbooks, and hanging out with her friends, until she meets Zayn. Zayn's an...
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➳ ZAYN'S POV
We're standing in front of a tattoo parlor, all of us eagerly anticipating Arielle's new ink. I've already decided what she's going to get, but I can't help but wonder if she'll truly like it.
I could make her get something hideous, something stupid, something that she'll regret for the rest of her life, but I didn't want to do that to her. I want her to get something a little more meaningful. Although I don't really know her well enough to distinguish a piece of art that'd have a lot of meaning to her, I think I know her well enough to recognize some of her best attributes.
She seems really admirable. I admire the way that she seems to stand up for herself, and I don't know, there's this aura around her that tells me she's been through a lot of shit in her lifetime.
Not to mention that she nearly had a panic attack earlier when we picked that hyperactive chick up from the school. I don't think anyone else noticed, but I saw the way her breathing picked up, and her hand clutched at her chest, and I could tell something was wrong. I don't think anybody just suddenly has rises in panic like that if there isn't something that's bothering them. She's obviously been through some serious enough shit that it's caused an unsettling amount of anxiety and dismay within her.
Arielle and I begin walking into the shop, but as we're about to enter, we both notice that Nyjah and Zoe aren't following. It's not that I'd care if either of them aren't coming in, I'm just curious as to what the fuck is going on.
"You two go in," Zoe says. "I need to talk to Nyjah for a moment, alone."
"Alright," Arielle tells them, confused as I am.
I pull the door open for the two of us, allowing her to step inside first. Her eyes go wide, and she looks around at the small place, inhaling the scent, which oddly smells of stale cigarettes. She seems to gaze around in wonder, not fear and it makes me wonder if she's had this done before.
A very—and I mean, I don't see a single inch of untouched skin besides his face—inked man steps forward and greets us. "Who's here to get tattooed?"
I purse my lips, extending my thumb out towards Arielle's direction. It brings her back to reality and she looks at the man, fear now contorting her face. It makes me want to reach out for her and comfort that feeling away, as strange as that sounds.
"And what are we having done?"
She shrugs her shoulders, "That's up to Zayn here." The artist looks at her confused and so she elaborates. "I lost a bet, so it's his choice."
"Alright, well if it's something small we could easily do it right away. Especially if you know where you want it."
"I know where I want it," Arielle confirms. "I think." She sinks her head in her hands with a wry laugh, "It all depends on what you're making me get."
