❝You think we're going to live happily ever after? Newsflash: I'm not a fucking princess, you're no prince and this fucked up thing between us is not a fairy tale.❞
Ian raises one perfectly arched eyebrow, unfazed by my outburst. ❝Fairy tales can be...
There was something familiar but strange about her - Snow White with a suntan. Cinderella in biker boots. Tough and delicate and magical and real all at once. —Allyse Near, Fairytales for Wilde Girls.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Epic Summer To Do List B4 I Turn Eighteen: #1: Get myself an effing tattoo from The Canvas* Edit: get an effing tattoo from any other tattoo parlour because Ian Ross is the asshole-est of them all.
"So," Mingxia, the body ink free tattoo artist says slowly, watching my face from her spot behind me through the mirror in front of us. "You like it or nah?"
I stare at the tattoo on my neck. It's the famous mark— rune from The Mortal Instruments; the 'fearless' rune. It's darker than midnight and a bit small in size, starting from the area under my earlobe to the middle of my neck.
I hum in approval. "It's looking good," I say, pointedly ignoring the way the skin looks red with bits of blood and excess ink pushing itself out of the wound. "Wrap it up and shit; you know what to do."
She rolls her brown eyes but nods. "Yeah, sure. As long as I get my extra money."
I don't reply. She starts to clean the wound and I close my eyes because of the sting. I'm aware of her wrapping some sort of gauze on the area where my tattoo is and I hold my breath before opening my eyes.
"Thanks," I say, standing up. "Maybe one day, we'll meet again."
"Yeah," she says, snapping at the gum in her mouth. "Maybe when you're actually legal and you have a permit."
I laugh before digging my hand into the pocket of my skinny jeans. I pull out crumpled dollar bills. I pay her and dig my hand into my purse to add the extra fee- a hundred dollar note- and I watch as she counts the money. I frown as she stares at it for a moment.
"Why are you staring at it like that?" I huff. "It's three hundred dollars, cash."
"I see that," she says slowly. "I'm just admiring good looking money."
I'm tempted to tell her that I gave her the crumpled looking notes from my pocket but I don't bother. "Right. So I guess I'll see you around Mingxia. Thanks."
"Xièxiè," she says, looking up at me. She's quite short but then again, I'm taller than most girls I meet. "You mean xièxiè."
"Huh?"
"Xièxiè means thanks. I'm teaching you basic Chinese," she raises one pierced eyebrow. "Say xièxiè."
