[C] Coffee Me Now

Adrian had somewhat reached a meditative state when she finally quieted down. It somewhat helped him not cry like a little bitch. 

When she piped up, he opened his eyes. He clicked his tongue.

"Give me five, and some goddamn water. My throat is like fucking sandpaper."

He some overly-masculine sensitive bastard. He knew when admit he needed to take five.

She laughed and kicked her stool backwards, setting down her gun on the wrapped table after disconnecting it.

"All right, gorgeous, one water coming up. Sure you don't want coffee? We keep plenty of sugar here." They had to with her massive sweet tooth.

She peeled off her gloves and, with a flutter of her skirt, and a flirty wink, she disappeared behind the curtain to fetch the both of them a drink.

"Don't make me puke. Wait, do. A little bit of fucking payback for you being a thieving bitch earlier."

Adrian rolled his mismatched eyes as she flounced off. The bitch was already growing on him, like some annoying fungus. Cute fungus. Fuck.

He sighed and closed his eyes again as he waited. His foot was fucking sore and he was tired and the only thing keeping him going was his coffee and fast-food grease at seven this morning.

Her twinkling laugh sounded as he groused.

She returned a couple of minutes later with two mugs in hand. One a generic cream colour, and the other pink and emblazoned with unicorns. She was sipping from that mug.

Angela held out the other mug for him. Coffee.

Ah. She brought him something better than water. Coffee. His saving grace. 

He took the steaming cup into his hand and took a chug. Then promptly spat it back out with a gag and splutter. Some of it drizzled down his chin and onto his chest ungracefully.

"You fucking pissing bitch of a woman. Fuck. The was fucking nasty."

Her laughed was light but full of joy.

"Right," she said, as if she'd just realised her mistake. "This one's yours."

She held out the unicorn mug for him to take. The coffee in this one was, mercilessly, plain black. He just had to deal with the mug meant for six year old girls.

Coffee exchanged, she sat on her stool, and sipped her sugary drink happily.

"What do you think so far?"

Adrian took the unicorn mug wearily. She didn't make that fucking mistake. The was purposeful, the cunt.

Not making the same mistake, he took a small sip. Luckily, it was the sweet sweet taste of plain black bitter coffee.

He looked a look down at his foot, and admired it, turning his foot side to side. 

"Honestly? It looks fucking good so far."

She definitely was doing a fantastic job. Better then he hoped.

Angela snorted. "Of course it fucking does. My tattoos don't heal as fast as Rai's, but they're not shit."

Rai spat in all her inks and disinfectants to add her werewolf healing qualities to them. It made her tattoos heal faster, but fuck if it grossed out the doctor in Angela.

A spell or two here and there to help out with the healing and give the poor bastard a little luck never went amiss, but she wasn't spitting in no ingredients like the wolf.

She drained her mug and set it aside, pulling on new gloves with a snap.

"Ready for colour, Hunky McAbs?"

The snap of her gloves seemed almost threatening. Almost.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

He chugged the rest of his coffee from the pretty pink unicorn mug then set it aside.

"Be gentle with me," he said, airily.

One thin brow arched upwards at his airy comment.

"You'll never find a tattoo artist being gentle, and I don't have the compassion to even try, baby boy."

She patted his ankle then connected the gun.

And then she started the colouring, running firmly over the already sore skin.

He snorted at her comment, then clenched his fists, teeth and hissed.

Taking a break meant he had a breather, but it also meant that he had to become accustomed to the pain again.

"With a name like yours and a face like that, you could at least fucking try."

Her laugh was light, like tinkling bells. "I don't work like that, baby boy."

She was cute as fuck, but she definitely didn't advertise any sweetness or compassion. Not in the slightest. If he thought that she had to try and act cute because she was small and looked pretty, then his head was too far up his ass.

"Haven't had any tears yet. You're brave, gorgeous."

He winced just as she said that and let out another hiss.

Fuck. She definitely timed that. 

He cracked his dark eye open.

"Was that an almost compliment over something that wasn't my fucking body?"

"You think that was a compliment?"

A brow arched, and she wiped away blood and ink.

"Baby boy, I want to see the tears flowing. It's no fun when I can't make big boys like you break. Let just one go, please."

He loved seeing big men in pain. It was one of her favourite things.

Instead of letting go of a tear, his lips quirked up into something to could be called a smile.

"Well, you are going to have no fucking fun with me. You're going to have to try a little - fuck - harder than that to make me cry, sweetheart."

His jaw twitched as he grimaced.

"Let's call it a challenge."

Her sure movements with the gun slowed. She wouldn't risk fucking up the tattoo to get him to cry, but she could afford to slow down and torture him with the prolonged colouring.

Call it being thorough with even coverage.

The next time she passed the rag over his skin, she pressed down just a little.

She wasn't going to be nice.

He wasn't dumb. He knew she had slowed down.

If this was a challenge, he had been baited.

When she down a little too heard he hissed and ground his teeth.

"Fucking bitch. Fuck. Bastard."

His head hit the back of the chair.

She snorted with a grin.

She adored those sorts of reactions from big tough man. Nothing made her happier than hearing people cuss her out.

It made her day.

"Holding up okay, Abs?"

He gritted his teeth.

"Fucking fantastic, sweetheart."

He looked down at her.

"Having fun down there?"

She looked like she was, grinning like that. It was kinda cute.

Fuck. He needed more coffee. Or sleep. He was delirious.

He gritted his teeth.

"Fucking fantastic, sweetheart."

He looked down at her.

"Having fun down there?"

She looked like she was, grinning like that. It was kinda cute.

Fuck. He needed more coffee. Or sleep. He was delirious.

Her smirk widened.

"Cry a little and I'll be enjoying it a hell of a lot more."

She ran the rag over his skin firmly again.

She was thoroughly enjoying this, and she could see him getting closer and closer to cracking. She couldn't not be enjoying this.

"Sorry, babe, not fucking happening."

He would rather shoot himself in the foot then cry in front of her. Or in front of anyone, for that matter. But especially fucking her. 

"Been making grown men cry long then?"

Her lips quirked up. "Since I started dating, gorgeous."

She dipped her needle in yellow now, ready to colour some of the other details. 

"As far as tattooing? Started my apprenticeship back when I was nineteen." Quite a few years ago now. She'd been tattooing on and off for seven years.

The yellow went on even slower than the red, but this time she wasn't purposefully slowing down to cause pain. Yellow was notoriously difficult to get even.

He grunted. 

"So what? Three, five years now?"

For only doing it for that long she was fucking good, with the glimpses of his almost tattoo he was seeing. 

He grunted again. What was he doing? Since when was he someone to small talk?

"With the break I took for school, four years."

She started her apprenticeship, and done two years in the beginning of school, then had to drop it while she focussed on school, but when she'd graduated, she had picked it back up again.

She'd been doing this for the past few years, and enjoyed every moment of it.

"Almost done." She continued adding colour to the last details.