Wolfdale

SIX (Iselen P.O.V)

The sound of the alarm clock wakes me up, I open my eyes confuse for a second because I don't recognize my new studio till I remember why I'm here and I turn off the alarm on my phone. This is Wolfdale... the city where everyone wants a colourful wolf tattooed and where the population change their mood like I change my T-shirt... easily. Yesterday my day started off badly with my lovely neighbour listening to Switzerland yodelling songs instead of opera, a dry peanut butter sandwich for breakfast and no coffee, an ice cold shower, delivery trucks honking the horn nonstop and my boss ordering me to sort out boring receipts. But all of a sudden everything changed: my boss became as meek as a lamb and he let me off work one hour earlier to go shopping, all the supermarkets were open and I found everything I had in my list, the cashier greeted me as if I've known her for years, the old grouch said hello when I walked past the little convenience store and Grey's cousin, the one who's fixing my car, carried my bags upstairs to my studio when I found him talking with his grandma Anna in the vestibule of our building.

And then there's her... Madam Mayor. Or as I call her: 'The hottest hottie in Hot Town.' Oh my God, talking about things that can brighten your day... that woman is an angel fallen from heaven... are there biker angels? I don't see why not since there're Hell Angels, I guess that good bikers go to heaven... then they fall and they turn into sensual brunettes with bluish green eyes and plump lips, with firm thighs and a flawless pale and soft skin. My landlady told me last night that I have hot water again but maybe a cold shower would be a good idea right now... by the wat, my neighbour hasn't given me a concert for free this morning... That's weird.

I jump out of bed and turn on the coffee machine, my daily dose of caffeine is the only thing that prevents me from turning into a zombie at this hour. I open the cabinet and stare at my options not knowing what to choose, for the first time in years I have a wide selection of cookies, buns and bread for breakfast... it's hard to restrain myself and not eating a portion of each. Luckily my boss pays me well enough and my landlady has refused to accept the rest of my rent this month, according to her it wouldn't be fair since I've been without hot water and electricity for the last two days so I've been able to buy lot of food and other supplies. I even have some money to buy clothes, maybe a new T-shirt... I loved the one that Hottie Mayor was wearing yesterday.

And I'm thinking of her again. Her words and her deep tone of voice have been running through my head since yesterday. "Ruby Rose," I whisper while pouring a dash of milk in my coffee. Even her name sounds sensual. When I lifted my head and I looked up from my sketch pad... I thought she wasn't real at first, the sunlight came through the glass door behind her surrounding her with a golden halo and I swear that I thought she was a real angel for a moment: her face, her eyes, her smile... she didn't seem from this world. And when I touched her... I felt the earth moving under my feet and a weird feeling of dizziness. Sebastian has always said that I'm a very sensitive person and that I have an eye for colours and shapes, sometimes I see someone and his bone structure, the colour of his skin or hair catch my attention and I know that I have to take a picture or draw a portrait of him. Ruby is one of the few people that awaken my artistic sensibility. The moment I saw her I felt my fingertips tingling of desire, I wanted to run and take my camera so bad...

I think she looks too young to be a Mayor and too... casual. Clearly her tight jeans, leather jacket and tattoos have nothing to do with a formal suit, white shirt and a pearl necklace that is the average 'uniform' most of the women politicians use to wear. Denise told me that she's very loved and highly respected and I took it as another point in favour of this city: obviously people here don't be deceived by appearances and they look beneath the surface to find the merits of the individuals. I think I'll be happy living here.

I guess that's the reason for which my boss forced me to tattoo her immediately, because she's loved and respected. Deep down, I'm glad he did it. If I'd stopped to think about it I wouldn't have dare to do it... I'm a professional and I've already tattooed some 'delicate' areas like a breast of a buttock... but I'd never tattooed a woman that could be a famous international top model with her pants off. Her skin is amazing, it felt like touching silk, I almost felt sorry for using my needle on her flesh although her skin is perfect for a tattoo: flawless and pale with little pores. I've never been so nervous in my entire life before, my hand shook holding the machine while I was trying to look at my design and not to other areas. For the first time since I'm a tattoo artist I couldn't escape from reality while I was focused on my job... I hope I didn't hurt her too much, she fidgeted on her seat sometimes... and every time she moved she sent a fragrant breeze in my direction, her scent smell like a fresh rain falling softly on a forest full of flowers and green trees... I don't think I can buy something like that in a bottle.