seraphic [h.s]

chapter nineteen.

"Pshh, that's- you want me- me? Dee, I'm not even a tattooist, it makes no sense and- and ink isn't even my thing, you know sometimes I even struggle with regular paint and-"

"You have to process it, I understand. But have an open mind remember. I know Harry wouldn't have just said it for nothing, which means your work is really good. And I trust him, he knows how serious this is for me."

"He put you up to this?"

"No, he didn't put me up to anything. I want you as part of my team. There are so many pros and absolutely no cons. At least thing about it, you don't have to give me an answer now." She softly tried.

Something felt alive within me, and I wasn't sure if it were my anxiety and shock, or if it were because the thought of her offer gushed through me with thousands of butterflies. It were true, in a perfect world, there would be no cons, the gesture was simply too generous and good to refuse. Except in my world, there were cons, and those cons consisted of the two people that created me and my sick need for them to be proud of anything I did. Something, at least something.

"I don't know Dee, this is- really serious. How do you know that you can even trust me?" I gulped, seeing the hope in her eyes sparkle like she held every bit of faith in me already.

Her smile only grew as she spoke, "Because that's how much I trust Harry's word. I mean, of course when you have your work available for me to see with my own eyes, my words will only be confirmed. But I'm serious Mabel, Harry doesn't fuck around when it comes to things like this, he really sees a light in you, he thinks you'd be perfect for the job and so do I."

I pondered further, trying to imagine myself tattooing a human body. The thought alone made me shiver, I could barely push the anxiety away when starting on a piece of paper because I wanted it to be nothing but perfect— that was bad enough— there was no going back once a needle would hit skin. That was forever permanent.

"You'll get training of course, if that's what you're worried about. I'm not going to throw you in the deep end when you don't know the ways around a tattoo gun. You'll need to have specified hours of training under a professional tattooist first, but that's easy because lucky for you... I am one."

She continued hitting me with the cold hard facts, giving me an answer to anything my mind was conjuring up as to why it wouldn't work. "If you say yes, we can start up training soon— earliest this weekend. That way by the time construction finishes you'll be fully qualified and ready to go, a full fucking tattooist." My eyes were wide the entire time, watching her in excitement and awe because this was definitely not the way I'd expected the night to go. The pizza sat untouched now that Dee had dropped the bomb, and my stomach churned at the sight of it.

"Don't answer me now. Think about it, okay? But I want you to know that you are fully supported, if you want to say no, you can. I would definitely be disappointed to see all of your talent go to waste but still, I wouldn't take it to heart." I nodded as she reassured me, watching me with fierce eyes to make sure I knew just how serious she was. And it was strange that in the short time I'd known her, I already felt immensely supported, more supported than I had ever felt sitting within the walls of my home for last twenty years.

"I'll think about it." I confirmed, a satisfied grin stretching onto her cheeks as she let out a big breath, "Whoa, okay thank god that's over. You're very intimidatingly quiet that I really thought you would've said no straight away." She smoothed her hands along her crossed legs, giggling to herself after registering her own words.

"I can if you want me to?" I playfully nudged her, causing for her eyebrows to narrow, "Don't you fucking dare." She hissed, pointing at me with mischievous eyes.