eight makes one team ➵ ateez

Ink Over Water (Tattoo Artist!AU - fluff)[Choi San] Part 1

There's something about him that's just... different. You're aware that San has many friends outside of the tattoo parlor, familiar faces such as Hongjoong and Wooyoung dropping in occasionally to bring him dinner from the restaurant just down the street, his laughter raucous and his wild grin alight with life, but you tend to wonder... do they know this San like you do?

This San is soft spoken, quiet, his voice as soft as velvet when he soothes his customers, telling them about his pet cat at home, how she's just as skittish as his customers when they get their first tattoos. This San explains the stories behind design sketches tacked up on the walls, their inspiration, the beautiful symbolism, the meaning of them. This San toys with his lower lip in concentration as he inks flowering vines and blooming roses into their skin.

Maybe you're just selfish, but you don't want anyone else to know this San like you do.

You've known San for a long time. Two years, in fact. You remember that day, clear as glass, when you had stepped into this quiet little shop, feeling a little cautious, perhaps a little doubtful, looking for a job. All you had wanted was some fast cash to get concert tickets to see your favourite band, but somehow... some way or another... even after the concert had ended... you had stayed.

This shop had become like a home to you. You recognise every nook and cranny of the rooms, know every sketch's name by heart, the story behind each painted image on San's arms, the slightest difference in the whirs of the tattoo guns, the indentations in the leather of the seats.

But most of all, the man inside the shop... he too, has become your home.

Today is just another ordinary, lazy afternoon. You're perched on the soft leather chair at the front desk, nursing a cup of coffee as you listen to the casual, soft words spilling from San's lips, barely audible over the hum of the tattoo gun while he works the needle over a customer's shoulder. The sounds of his murmuring is like music to your ears, lulling you into relaxed stupor as you get drunk off his voice alone.

This afternoon, he's telling his customer about the newest sketch he's hung up on the wall.

"The eye is a really pretty eye." You hear him breathe as he wipes away the blood on her arm. You take another sip of coffee and idly listen. To be honest, you yourself are curious about that sketch. It's unlike the floral sketches he usually prefers, instead it's a single, unblinking eye with a doorway reflected in its gaze, the sight seemingly familiar to you. "It's a... source of comfort to me."

"Really? How so? Is it one of your own?" You hear the customer ask as she arches her back slightly, surely sore from lying face down on the seat for so long. San frowns to himself, one hand pushing his crimson streaked hair out of his eyes before he returns the needle to her skin, soothing her yelp of pain with a gentle hush.

"Well... I see it every day." San hums thoughtfully and you feel your eyebrows raise in curiosity as you search for a pen to jot down some records on the computer. You weren't aware that someone visited San daily at the shop. Maybe it was someone who came by in the early mornings to help him open up before you reached. "You know... they say the eye is the window to the soul, right? So one day I just came into the shop and saw that sight reflected in her eyes... And for a moment... I just thought that this shop was something important to her, you know? And she told me earlier that day... how she felt like this place had become something like a home... and I just felt so... happy, you know?"

Something tugs at your heartstrings as you scribble a few numbers down in your notebook, absentmindedly pondering San's words. Why does that sound so familiar?

"And if only I could say something to her... Just like opening the door to her soul. If only it were as easy as opening a physical door." San's voice drops to a melancholy, hushed murmur, but you can still pick out the sound of his voice, as if your ears are drawn to nothing but him. His customer coos in pity as she rises to her feet, gauze pressed to her skin with a sympathetic look on her face.

"A case of silent, unspoken love, darling?" She shakes her head with a sad smile on her face. "You need to take the chance while you still can."

San manages to force a smile onto his face, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the ebony blossoms on his left forearm. "Yeah... I'll try."