Page 1 of Whimsical Ink

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DANIEL

December 23rd:Whimsical Ink.

“Maddy, let’s go.” The door crashes behind me and I wince. Not exactly the best impression, but whatever.

“Bit busy.” Her voice comes from the back corner.

Ah, she’s in a session. Oops. Probably should have checked before interrupting.

“What are we doing today?” I yank out a chair beside the tattoo bed and collapse into it, careful not to jostle Maddy.

She wipes blood and ink off skin. “Ignore him. I don’t know him.”

I clutch my chest. “I’m hurt. How could you say that?”

The man she’s tattooing laughs and she removes the buzzing needle until he stops.

“Don’t worry about it. How you going, Dan?” Sage asks.

“Good, good. I’ve come to steal this one away.” Not that she knows that. “How’s the wife?”

“Perfect as always.” He glances at Maddy hunched over his arm. She’s working on a floral design, which makes sense since Sage owns the flower shop at the corner of the street.

“Not raised your rent yet?”

“She refuses to. Getting her favourite flower today. If she won’t raise the rent, I’ll get more tattoos for her.”

I laugh. Only Sage would do that. And Poppy will love it too. She owns the building and, rumour has it, flooded the place when he moved in.

Maddy straightens, wipes his arm, frowns and bends down again. “How do you two know each other?”

I shrug. “He has the best flowers.” Anytime the business needs flowers, we go to him, and if I ever needed flowers for my personal life, I’d go there too. I glance around Maddy’s studio. Maybe she needs some flowers?

“If you’re here to get something added to your sleeve, I don’t have time today.”

“Like I’d show up unannounced.”

She holds the needle away from skin, and her blue eyes ice me over. But it’s fine. I know she loves me, she just doesn’t know it yet.

“You do it all the time.”

“Do I?” She’s right. I do. Any chance I get. Any way to be near her.

Did I start getting tattoos to be close to her? Maybe. Not exactly… Okay, fine, a little. But I already wanted a tattoo. I just decided to have her do it rather than research a different artist. Or any artist.

“You know you do.” She turns to Sage, makes a few more strokes and wipes his arm. “Okay, you’re done. Let me grab the aftercare stuff.”

She rolls her chair to the side, snaps her gloves off, and takes items from the shelf.

“What are you doing?” Sage mutters.

“Nothing.” I cross my arms, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Really? You aren’t trying to worm your way into her heart, despite the fact she’s your best friend’s little sister, and all she does is glare at you?”

“She doesn’t always glare at me. Besides, Oliver’s left her alone for Christmas, so I thought I’d take her somewhere.”

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