“This is a... buy every appetizer and dessert on the menu kind of situation.”
“And? Then let’s do it.”
“And you’re here for a tattoo.”
“Oh, fuck, I am.” At those words, Sam looked down at her hip, where Violet had already inked the outline a few weeks earlier. Sam’s skin was covered in tattoos, some idle doodles Violet had drawn straight on, while others deeply sentimental pieces they had lingered over for days, trying to perfect. Most of her ink was hidden underneath her clothing, as Sam had started coming in to cover old scars. First, a surgery scar, from her appendix, and then... others. Marks from her teen years.
And then, it stopped being about covering scars, and instead became about creating art. Sam seemed to be addicted to the pain, almost as much as Violet was. Something about the pain was real. Something about it was... fresh. A controllable.
And now, Sam was back to color in a flower design, one which she was proudly showing off with a crop top.
Sam was the best. The best of people. The best of humans.
“Come on back, and we can start talking about this. If you’re lucky, maybe we can convince Drake to go get us milkshakes... and onion rings.”
Sam’s grin said it all—the idea was a good one.
“Mmm, so I’m thinking about coloring my hair again.”
“You’re always thinking about coloring your hair,” Violet pointed out. The last color was starting to fade, a bright red to finish out the last of summer and welcome in Fall. Lucky Sam with her blonde hair that took up color so well. “Are you going orange for Halloween, or?”
“I want mermaid hair,” Sam said with a grin, and flashed her left forearm to show off the mermaid Violet had inked there a year before. “I’m thinking teal that runs into purple.”
“Isn’t mermaid hair a summer thing?” Violet asked as she entered her studio and lowered the bed for Sam. “What are we listening to today?”
“Not listening. We’re talking.”
“We always listen to something.”
“Oh my God, then put on that stupid classical Teddy likes so it doesn’t interrupt our talking. You’re not getting out of the conversation about whatever has you looking like shit.”
“Fuck, you’re a real bitch...”
“But you love me.” That was true. Sam really was the best. Which was why Violet loved her.
The sound of the front door opening alerted Violet to someone new in the shop, which was probably one of the guys, but they normally used the back door. That was... weird. Odder still was the wave of warmth over her skin. “Hang on. I’ll be right back.”
She should have expected him. After all, Henrik Ellis had never been one to give up easily. He had always worked hard, practiced, struggled and fought, and in the end, he always succeeded. It was never from a lack of trying that he would get results. Of course he was going to come back. Of course he wasn’t going to give up on her. On them.
He was never a quitter. Not even whatever weird things were going on with him would make him stop.
It scared her, and yet, she had never been so relieved to see him.
Shit, what should she say? What should she do? Was begging his forgiveness too much? Could she even beg for it, when she still logically knew that she was right? What could she say that didn’t result in mixed signals? She wanted him, loved him, but they couldn’t be together.
Not while her powers were haywire. Not when a mere touch could burn them.
“Fuck,” Henrik breathed out with a groan. “Every time I look at you, I think I won’t be blown away by your beauty, but it’s just like the first time. Every part of you, Little Witch... you set me—”
He cut himself off, but Violet could fill in the blank.Fire.
A chill ran down her spine at the thought, but that didn’t stop her cheeks from turning red at the compliment. She knew she was fucking hot, knew she was a bombshell, but no one else’s opinion mattered on the subject. So long as she felt good and comfortable, that was all that should matter.
But Henrik? She really had been an awkward looking child. Being able to steal his breath away and make him lose his train of thought was a benefit to her hotness she enjoyed.
Except, her appearance was definitely not the reason for his visit, particularly after how he had been avoiding and ignoring her for over a week and a half.
The silence between them quickly became awkward, and Henrik shifted his gaze away from her while she stared at him, still silent. Why was he in her shop, what did he want, and what had happened that made him suddenly enter her space?