Work Text:
The hum of the tattoo machine filled the small studio with a steady, almost hypnotic rhythm. Sevika slid the needle precisely over the fake skin, the black ink merging with the silicone in defined patterns. She wasn't in a hurry; she never was. She liked to take her time, savoring every line, every shadow, because at the end of the day, art took time.
The doorbell rang with a metallic clang, and Sevika looked up briefly. There was Powder, standing with her apron still on, a couple of what looked like liquor stains on the fabric. Her blue eyes lit up as soon as she saw Sevika, and she gave her a shy smile.
"Annoyed?" Powder asked, rubbing her hands together.
"If I were, I'd have kicked you out by now," Sevika replied, without taking her eyes off the tattoo she was finishing.
Powder smiled a little wider, walking into the studio. He always smelled of ink, disinfectant, and a hint of leather, a contrast to the liquor-and-wood aroma of his parents' bar.
"Ekko and I broke up," she blurted out.
Sevika didn't react immediately. She turned off the machine, carefully cleaned the design, and covered the reddened skin with a bandage before standing up. Only when she was collecting the money did she give Powder a sideways glance. "So what?"
"Differences," she muttered, shrugging. She leaned back against the workbench. "He says I should do something with my life. That I'm wasting my potential."
Sevika snorted as she pulled off her gloves.
"What does that have to do with you two?"
"He says he can't stand to see me settle. That if he loves me, he can't watch me stay in one place forever."
"Bullshit," Sevika snapped. Powder laughed softly, but his eyes held a melancholy gleam.
"I don't know if I'm right." She rubbed her arms uncertainly. "You're nineteen, Powder. You don't have to figure out your life right now."
"You did."
Sevika snorted. "I realized I was good at giving people ink and decided to charge for it. It's not that deep."
Powder looked at her for a moment before scanning the studio. It wasn't a very large place, but it was filled with sketches, photos of healed tattoos on different skin tones, and mementos from clients who, over time, had become friends. There was something about that place, about her, that made Powder feel...at peace.
"I want a tattoo." Sevika raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any idea what you want?"
"No." She smiled nervously and looked away. "Perfect," Sevika quipped. "Come back when you're ready." Powder was silent for a few seconds before murmuring, "I want you to be the one to do it." She knew there were other tattoo artists in the studio.
Sevika stared at her. It was the first time she'd said it in that voice, with that tone that made her think she wasn't just talking about a tattoo. "Make an appointment and we'll talk."
"What if I want it after hours?" Sevika smirked. "Then bring alcohol." Powder smiled back. Maybe she didn't have everything figured out, but at least she knew that tonight, she wanted to be there. With her.
Night fell, and Powder arrived at Sevika's tattoo studio, bag in hand, a relaxed expression on her face. She still didn't know exactly what Sevika would do to her, but she did know she wanted Sevika to do it.
She knocked on the door and didn't have to wait long. Sevika opened it, as calmly as ever, now dressed in a tank top and shorts. Her dark hair was wet, making her features more pronounced in the dim lighting.
"I brought alcohol," Powder announced, holding up the bag with a satisfied smile. Sevika glanced quickly at the contents and raised an eyebrow. "Wine? Really?"
"You were expecting something stronger?"
"I was hoping for something decent."
"It's good wine!" Powder protested, following her into the studio. "You have no taste."
"I don't have the patience to drink something that feels like expensive juice," Sevika replied, taking out a couple of glasses and pouring them anyway.
Powder plopped down in the armchair where customers were waiting their turn and looked around. At this hour, without the hustle and bustle of the day, the studio had a different atmosphere. The dim light from the lamps highlighted the framed illustrations on the wall, each with a different signature. Some were her own, others by artists Sevika admired.
Sevika handed her a glass, leaning on the worktable with her own drink in hand. "So, have you decided what you're going to do?"
Powder bit her lower lip before placing the glass on the table and approaching the board where Sevika was sketching. With her fingertips, she ran her fingers over some of the designs until she stopped on one.
Butterflies.
They were small, delicate, but full of detail on their wings, as if made to catch the light with every stroke. Powder looked at them for a long moment before looking back at Sevika. "What do they mean to you?"
Sevika took a moment before answering. She'd been drawing them especially for Powder. "They always said they were a symbol of change. Or a free soul." Powder smirked. "Do they remind you of me?"
Sevika snorted and looked away, but the hint of a smile appeared on her lips, betraying her. "You're more of a whirlwind than a butterfly."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Powder replied, shrugging. "I think you're excellent at reading people, I like it." Sevika nodded before standing up. "Pick a spot."
Powder looked thoughtful. "What do you recommend?" Sevika looked at her carefully, as if analyzing her skin, her structure. "The arm would be fine. Or the neck, but it will hurt."
"And the collarbone?"
Sevika raised an eyebrow. "You'll handle the pain, butterfly?"
"I'll try." Sevika said nothing more, just indicated that she should sit on the table. Powder obeyed, feeling a slight flutter in her stomach as Sevika sat down beside her, her hands gently running over the skin above her collarbone to clean and prepare it.
"You know I'm going to mark you forever, right?" Sevika commented, her tone lower than usual. Powder flinched, but didn't tear her gaze away from hers. "Then do it right."
The machine whirred to life with its signature whir, and when the needle touched her skin, Powder pressed her lips together, feeling the initial sting. But she didn't move; she held on.
Sevika worked with precision, her gaze completely focused on each stroke. The studio was silent except for the sound of the tattoo machine and Powder's heavy breathing.
"Does it hurt?" Sevika asked at one point. "Bearable," Powder murmured.
"Good." I don't want you crying on my table. Powder snorted and looked away, but something pulsed differently in her chest.
When Sevika finished, she carefully cleaned the area before applying a bandage.
"That's it."
Powder sat up slowly, feeling the slight sting of the new tattoo. She walked to the full-length mirror and carefully removed the bandage to see the result.
Three small butterflies adorned her collarbone, their wings designed with a level of detail that made them look like they might peel away from her skin at any moment.
It was beautiful.
"Do you like it?" Sevika asked from behind her. Powder nodded with a soft smile. "It's perfect."
And then, before she could think about it too much, she covered the tattoo, turned, and hugged Sevika. It was an impulsive move, but genuine. Sevika took a couple of seconds to respond, but finally, she put an arm around her back, patting her gently. "Don't get so excited," she murmured, but Powder could hear the smile in her voice. "It's your first, so..."