Inked

Screwed

Chapter 1:

I place my hand on the door to the shop a bit unsure about everything although I've thought about this for a long time. It's not the pain that throws me off, I think I can handle it. It's really the finished product left forever more etched in my skin. But it's not that big, and easily hidden, and I'm already here. So I push the door open and a bell goes off above my head. The cluttered shop is empty but as I turned to leave deciding it wasn't meant to be I hear footsteps from the back room. The guy that joins me looks about my age, but dresses in dark colors to match his raven-hair which is styled into a quite tall quiff.

"Sorry, my receptionist went on lunch 2 hours ago and never came back because she knows I'm not going to fire her." He takes the seat behind the flowery, pink decorated desk where he looks completely out of place. Although he does seem to fit perfectly in a tattoo shop. His sleeve is covered in tattoos and his dark eyes and black quiff give off a shy and mysterious presence. He has long eyelashes and the prettiest cheekbones I've ever seen on a guy. I get lost in the moment watching his perfect lips curve around his words, I suddenly get jealous of this receptionist that gets to work for this guy, making my own spill out of my mouth.

"What, are you like dating her or something?" I blurt out quickly regretting even existing near this clearly perfect being.

"No she's my little sister." He just barely smiles, clicking some stuff on the computer, I smile awkwardly. "So do you have an appointment or are you a walk in?"

"I have an appointment." I bite my lip nervously. "My name is Liam Payne."

"Your name is Payne?" His laugh is perfect and I look down to make sure my feet haven't melted. "Perfect for a tattoo then."

"Yeah, what's yours?" I blush.

"Malik." He points to the print on the front of the door which is backwards from inside. From the outside it reads 'Kilam Nyaz Tattoos', the name of the shop.

"The name of your shop is your name backwards! Your name is Zayn!"

"Yeah, what did you think?"

"I thought it was thug for 'kill them, Nyaz'" I confess, my cheeks heating up. "I thought your name was Nyaz..." Zayn burst into laughter.

"Seriously? What is someone as adorable as you doing at a tattoo shop named after a murderous thug then?" Zayn chuckled standing up and leading me to the back room which is plastered with drawings and there are various stations for tattooing. I blush at the word adorable.

"Well this is my first time," I shrug, "I think I'll get more though." Especially if you're the artist.

"Whoa there, let's not go crazy, you might regret getting a bunch of tattoos one day!" I detect a hint of sarcasm in Zayn's voice.

"I'll bet you hear that a lot." I run my fingers along my recently shaved head.

"Yeah, I always laugh when people tell my I'm going to regret my tattoos when I'm older. Yeah, when my health is deteriorating and I'm struggling to get around the first thought I'll have will be, 'I really wish I didn't have all these tattoos reminding me of the good old days.' Right." Zayn laughs.

"Right," I agree, how can he be this perfect, who is this perfect? "are these your drawings?" I ask in awe, looking at the walls.

"Yeah most of'em." He takes a seat at one of the stations and waits for me to join him.

"You're really good!" I say taking the bench in front of him, it reminds me of a dentist chair, which comforts me because I've never had a bad experience at the dentist's.