3. Kyro #2
A hiss was released from me at the thought of the pain. “Damn, I know that shit hurt. Were you trying to cover the scar up, because where you said you wanted it won’t?”
She shook her head. “Oh, no! I want to keep my battle scar.”
I started to lay her design where she wanted it to be. Her skin was so damn soft. If her arm was this soft, I could only imagine how soft the rest of her was. “You like getting your tats in silence, or can we talk?”
She gave me a beautiful smile. “We can talk. I mean, you did say that you wanted some time alone with me. I would hope that it wasn’t just to sit quiet with me while I get my tat. Oh, and I am physically attracted to you.”
My ear lowered toward my shoulder, and my eyebrow arched. “Word? Well, that takes care of that. Let’s get started.”
She took a deep breath. When the needle hit her skin, she didn’t flinch, hiss, or anything. “How long have you been tatting?”
“Since my early twenties. My Auntie Danielle was the first person that I tatted. My cousin Rashad was the second,” I told her.
I was proficient in holding conversations and tattooing at the same time.
When I first started tatting, I was quiet because I wanted to make sure everything was perfect.
In my mind, at the time, if I talked while I tatted, then I would fuck up.
It took a while for me to feel that I perfected my craft and skill to the point that I could have a conversation while I worked.
That was a work in progress, too, because I would stop my needle to talk, which extended the time of the appointment.
“That’s so cool that you can use people’s skin as a canvas. I looked on your website, and I saw that you do a lot of original pieces. Do those cost more than pieces that people bring in?” she asked.
I lifted the needle for a second to wipe her skin off. I glanced at her for a moment. “Yeah, they do. I copyright most of my original pieces so no other artist can do it. When someone brings in a design, I also check it to make sure it’s not copyrighted.”
“Oh, that makes sense. It’s great that you respect other’s artwork,” she said softly. “I wish more people did.” Her head turned to look at me. “How much would it cost for you to draw me up an original piece?”
My head was low as I concentrated on the lines, but my smirk was high. She wanted an original. “For you, it would cost nothing. I would never charge my girl for a tat.”
She giggled. “Kyro, I’m not your girl. If that’s the case, does that mean today is free?”
I finished the line that I worked on before I responded. My answer required that I look her in the eyes. “You’re right. You’re not my girl right now, so today is not free. By the time that I sketch an original piece for you, you will be.”
Yeah, I liked her, but we weren’t committed. When I canceled an appointment to get her in, that was my grace from liking her. The $900 that I charged for their tats was also a steep discount. Any other person, these two designs together would have been at least $1,200.
Tomorrow stared at me for an intense moment. “You are cocky as hell. You just think you got me in the bag, huh?”
“Nah, I don’t have you in shit yet. You got me, though,” I confidently said. “Now, are you going to let me take you out on our first date?”
She shook her head before her smile brightened the already bright room. “I guess I can do that. What did you have in mind?”
For the rest of the appointment, we got to know each other. I intentionally took much longer than I should have. I wanted to spend as much time as I could with her. By the end of the appointment, I knew exactly where I would take her on our first date.
A Very Little Time Later
It’s A Date . . .
The night had finally arrived. It was Tomorrow’s and my first date. It took longer than I would have liked it to take because of both of our schedules. It also took a minute for me to set up a special experience for her with the help of my Auntie Danielle.
This date would set the tone for what Tomorrow should expect when it came to how I was coming when it came to her. My father taught me to start everything how you intended to maintain and finish it. I would lean on that advice heavily.
Since her tattoo appointment, we had talked or seen each other every day.
I went out of my way to take her lunch for a few days.
We talked every day on the phone, but the call was always switched to a video call at some point.
When we talked, it felt like some high school shit.
She fell asleep on the phone with me a few times, and I let her sleep.
She lived about twenty minutes away from my apartment. I was familiar with the area that she lived in. It was a nice area that was in the middle of gentrification.
Before I knocked on her front door, I smoothed my hand down my blazer.
The outfit was simple, but debonair: a pair of dark denim jeans, black Air Jordans, a black blazer, and a red Polo collar shirt.
I had never been big on jewelry, so it was my usual necklace that was a gift from my grandparents, and a watch that was a gift from my parents.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Seconds later, the front door opened. I expected Tomorrow but was met with Tuesday. “Hey, Kyro.” She stepped to the side. “You can come in. Tomorrow is almost ready.”
My eyes scanned the apartment as I walked to the couch.
The decor was nice and, I could tell, intentional.
It didn’t surprise me that it had an artistic, minimalist feel to it.
Mine was similar but with more of a manly feel.
“How are you doing, Tuesday? Oh, before I forget, you did your thing with the tattoo sketch.”
I had to give her praise for her dope-ass work. She smiled bashfully. “Thank you. Oh my God! You did such an awesome job bringing it to life. I can’t wait until I’m eighteen to get mine.”
Now my interest was piqued. “Do you already have something sketched?” I smiled when she told me that she did. I wasn’t sure why I was so surprised. “Can I see it?”
She nodded before she went toward the back of the apartment. Seconds later, August came from the back. “What’s up, Kyro?”
I stood to dap him. “What’s up, man? It ain’t too much. Ready to take your sister out on our first of many dates.”
He tittered. “That’s what’s up. You know I love my sister, right?” He waited until I acknowledged his statement to continue. “Kyro, I’m far from some thug nigga or gangsta, but I will knock anyone off behind my sisters. If I can’t do it, I know someone who can get it done.”
I wanted to think that he was joking. The fire in his eyes told me that he was serious. “I respect that. I have no intention of hurting your sister. You have no reason to believe me right now, but you will when we’re at that altar.”
Before he could respond, Tuesday walked into the living room with a notebook clutched under her arm. She looked between me and her brother. “What y’all talking about?”
She shrugged when neither of us answered. We watched her open her notebook and flip to the page that held the sketch that she wanted to show me. With pride, she handed me the notebook.
My eyes bucked at the sketch. It was the perfect complement to the sketch that she created for her brother and sister. “Okay, so if your sister is the lighthouse and August is the voyager, what are you?”
“She’s the harbor. She’s the reason that me and August will always fight to come home. She’s where our story ends and begins anew.” Tomorrow’s voice was soft.
All our attention turned to her. Damn! She was beautiful. The dress that she wore fit her like a glove that I wanted to take the hell off. With her heels on, we might have been the same height. That wasn’t a problem for me at all. “Hey, beautiful.”
My feet moved toward her before my mind told me that they would. It felt like second nature to wrap my arms around her, so that was what I did. She welcomed and returned my hug. Her smile was wide when she pulled back. “You look handsome.”
“Thank you, love.” My body slightly turned to face August and Tuesday, but I didn’t release my hold of Tomorrow. “So, we have the lighthouse, the voyager, and the harbor.” I nodded my head. “That’s dope that you came up with that, Tuesday. I’d be honored to tat you when that time comes.”
Tuesday’s cheeks rose. “Yes! Just to let you know, I know it’s illegal to tat me before I’m eighteen, but if you choose to . . . I won’t tell a soul.”
“Well, good thing it’s not his decision to make whether he will do it or not,” Tomorrow quipped. “August had to wait until he was eighteen, and so do you.”