“Don’t distract the artist,” Jace hissed, though his voice came out about an octave higher than normal.
I smirked, focusing on the line. “Almost done.”
“Don’t say ‘almost done’!” he yelped. “That’s code for ‘something worse is coming’!”
I bit back a laugh, keeping my wrist steady. The tattoo gun buzzed steadily while Jace alternated between whimpering andpep-talking himself like he was running a marathon through a haunted house.
“Breathe,” I said calmly. “In through the nose, out through the mouth. Just like your pregnancy classes taught you.”
“I AM BREATHING!” he practically screamed with wild eyes. “I AM THE WOMAN!”
That was it. I lost it. My shoulders shook as I tried not to laugh directly into his arm.
“NDL for life, baby,” he groaned, sweat beading at his temple. “No drama…only llamas…”
“Done,” I said, finally lifting the needle and wiping the fresh ink clean.
He blinked, chest still heaving. “That’s it?”
I nodded. “That’s it.”
A slow grin crept across his face. “I didn’t even cry.”
“Are you sure about that?” Parker asked, pushing his sleeve up as he sat down next to me.
Jace ignored him, twisting his arm to admire the crooked, slightly unevenNDLscrawled in black. “That’s beautiful,” he breathed reverently.
I set the machine down. “You’re welcome,” I said, feeling oddly proud.
Parker sighed as he offered me his arm.
Jace grinned, already leaning forward like an overexcited coach. “That’s my boy.”
“Less commentary, more disinfectant,” Parker muttered, though he didn’t pull away.
I grinned, snapping on a new pair of gloves. “At least one of you knows how to commit without screaming.”
Jace crossed his arms. “I wasexpressing emotion, Adler. It’s called range.”
“Of course,” I said, cleaning the spot on Parker’s arm. The machine buzzed to life again. Parker didn’t even flinch. His jaw stayed locked, eyes fixed ahead, calm and steady while I worked.
It took less than two minutes. When I lifted the needle and wiped the skin clean, the freshNDLsat there…smooth, straight, and way too perfect compared to Jace’s.
Jace immediately leaned in. “Why is his straight?”
“Because he didn’t twitch like a toddler on Nerds Gummies,” I said, glancing down at my arm and wondering how I was going to do myself.
Jace was still scowling. “This is favoritism. Pure and simple. I demand a do-over.”
“No do-overs,” I said firmly, capping the ink bottle. “That’s not how tattoos work. Or life.”
Parker flexed his arm once, examining the mark with a nod. “It’s fine. Small. Subtle. And if anyone asks, I’ll say it's a reminder not to let idiots with impulse-buys near my skin.”
“Fair,” I murmured, grabbing a fresh wipe. “My turn.”
Jace's eyes widened. “Wait, you’re gonna tattoo yourself?”
I shrugged, trying to play it cool even as my pulse kicked up. “How hard can it be? It’s just three letters.”
