Post by DANTE APOSTOLOS CARPETHOS on Feb 8, 2017 21:27:11 GMT 8
I was your escape, your getaway
So send me off to hell, I prefer the warm weather
So send me off to hell, I prefer the warm weather
The hum of the machine dulled your mind after hearing it for eight hours. It had been a busy day for Dante but it wasn't over yet. London still didn't feel like home after all these years but when he was hear the Panos family was far from his mind, or at least it was easy to push them from his thoughts. This included his own little additions to the Panos clan, a nice cocktail of pills, powders, plants, and boozes always made the job even easier. And so did she. Marceline Bellefonte. She was a liar, maybe not in words but in avoidance, but she kept his secret - even if she acted like she didn't know it. She'd known him before everything though, seen him even, she wasn't the sort to forget faces either. Yet she held her tongue - maybe it was just bad for business to get one of your best buyers killed.
He'd been tattooing her for a few years now, she was his own person canvas. Maybe it was narcissistic to assume some of the ink she'd gotten had been her attempted to seduce him. It was a lie to deny they had chemistry, they had tip toed around it briefly but Dante was hardly the sort to keep things innocent for long. Of course things were complicated for Marceline, it was part of why she wanted him though and she would be a lair should she ever deny it. Still, he had held out much longer for her than he did for anyone - she was making him work for it, at least that was what it was starting to feel like.
Finishing up her latest addition Dante grabbed the fresh towel and bottle filled with clean water to clear away the blood and excess ink. Her sink was raw, blood droplets pooling here and there. Carefully, and maybe a little too sensually, he rubbed the healing cream over the tattoo. It was just them in the shop, he had locked the door hours ago after the last walk in was completed. Marcy was always his final tattoo of the day. Maybe August was back so maybe Liam was actually starting to respect boundaries but Dante didn't like taking risks on being interrupted during his personal time. After he was satisfied that her fresh piece had been properly coated in the healing cream he wrapped it in a cloth bandage, adhering it with a simple charm.
His hands than came to rest on her thighs. There was a press behind the way his hands griped at her as he leaned in close to her his mouth seeking her's. Marcy was a quiet girl, although Dante liked that about her, they rarely had to talk which meant he rarely had to lie, he didn't have to bother about what troubled her, arguing - all of it was kept to a minimum, and she always was able to score the best supplies at the shortest notice. Dante savored the taste of her mouth before drawing away. He moved away from her and flicked his wand at the mess of his tattoo supplies as he started to tidy up.
"You fall asleep there for a bit, or was my story just that boring?" She seemed to enjoy listening to him, or mabe it was something about the sound of his voice or some dumb shit like that. Dante really wasn't sure. But she made life here in London less lonely, and she didn't complicate things - too much.
He'd been tattooing her for a few years now, she was his own person canvas. Maybe it was narcissistic to assume some of the ink she'd gotten had been her attempted to seduce him. It was a lie to deny they had chemistry, they had tip toed around it briefly but Dante was hardly the sort to keep things innocent for long. Of course things were complicated for Marceline, it was part of why she wanted him though and she would be a lair should she ever deny it. Still, he had held out much longer for her than he did for anyone - she was making him work for it, at least that was what it was starting to feel like.
Finishing up her latest addition Dante grabbed the fresh towel and bottle filled with clean water to clear away the blood and excess ink. Her sink was raw, blood droplets pooling here and there. Carefully, and maybe a little too sensually, he rubbed the healing cream over the tattoo. It was just them in the shop, he had locked the door hours ago after the last walk in was completed. Marcy was always his final tattoo of the day. Maybe August was back so maybe Liam was actually starting to respect boundaries but Dante didn't like taking risks on being interrupted during his personal time. After he was satisfied that her fresh piece had been properly coated in the healing cream he wrapped it in a cloth bandage, adhering it with a simple charm.
His hands than came to rest on her thighs. There was a press behind the way his hands griped at her as he leaned in close to her his mouth seeking her's. Marcy was a quiet girl, although Dante liked that about her, they rarely had to talk which meant he rarely had to lie, he didn't have to bother about what troubled her, arguing - all of it was kept to a minimum, and she always was able to score the best supplies at the shortest notice. Dante savored the taste of her mouth before drawing away. He moved away from her and flicked his wand at the mess of his tattoo supplies as he started to tidy up.
"You fall asleep there for a bit, or was my story just that boring?" She seemed to enjoy listening to him, or mabe it was something about the sound of his voice or some dumb shit like that. Dante really wasn't sure. But she made life here in London less lonely, and she didn't complicate things - too much.