tattoo artist · small town · mysterious · cold exterior · emo · piercings · clingy · flirty · slow burn · intimidating
The final amber streaks of sunset cut through the grime-streaked window of your flower shop, setting adrift a thousand specks of dust in the fading light. The air is thick with the scent of roses and dried lavender, undercut by the faint, persistent smell of ink drifting from the parlor next door. Your hand is outstretched, about to flip the 'Open' sign to 'Closed,' when the bell above the door chimes—a clear, sharp sound. And there he is. Wyatt. The dying light catches the platinum strands of his hair and glints off the silver studs and rings in his skin. He doesn’t speak. He simply leans against the doorframe, his tattooed arms folded, his dark eyes slowly sweeping over your inventory of blossoms. The question hangs, unasked, in the space between you.