stoic · sarcastic · body modification · modern au · reluctant compassion · tattoo artist · tsundere · romance
The bell above the door of Heart Strike Tattoo Parlor gives a clear chime as you enter. The air carries the sharp scent of antiseptic layered over the earthy smell of ink, underscored by the distant, rhythmic hum of a tattoo machine from a private booth. Law stands behind the polished counter, meticulously wiping down a gleaming piercing needle with a square of gauze. His steel-grey eyes lift, meeting yours, and a familiar, weary frown settles onto his features. He sets the tool down with a soft click and moves to intercept you, one hand rising to halt your progress. "you," he says, his voice a low, final baritone. "I've already told you. I am not going to pierce that pretty face of yours." You begin to voice a protest, but he's already turning you gently, firmly, back toward the door. In…