Chapter Text
Sunday — February 8th, 2026
Zoey tried to hide her nerves, but the restless fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt gave her away. She was familiar with tattoo and piercing studios because she had a few earrings scattered along her ear, but even so, this would be her first tattoo. And that made everything feel different.
She paced back and forth across the reception area, her attention drawn to the walls. They were decorated with paintings of fluid and abstract shapes, streaks of purple spreading like ink in water, creating an atmosphere that felt both welcoming and faintly intimidating. Zoey tried to focus on them, studying the colors and compositions like she would in any other space, but the nervousness kept tugging her thoughts back.
She didn’t know who the tattoo artist would be. Worse, she didn’t even know her name — only that it was a woman. The studio’s Instagram profile didn’t offer names or personal details, just photos of the work and the space itself. It wasn’t much, but it had been enough to convince her she was in good hands. The recommendation had come from the only friend she’d made in the city since moving there, and Zoey clung to that thought, trying to steady herself.
She had just sat down on the couch again when the procedure room door opened, and a guy stepped out. He wore a friendly smile, but Zoey had the uncomfortable feeling she was being assessed.
“She’ll be with you in a moment,” he said gently. “Did you fill out the form?”
Zoey smiled and handed over the clipboard with her personal and medical information. The guy skimmed through it, checking if everything was filled out, then nodded.
“I’m going to film a few clips of the procedure for her Instagram… Is it okay if your face shows?” he asked.
“Oh… Yeah! Of course! You can film.” she replied, then added, trying to make conversation to mask her nerves. Zoey always talked too much when she was anxious, even with strangers. “Do you tattoo too?”
“Me? Nah…” he laughed, shaking his head as he gestured toward the door. “I just help around the studio when she needs it.”
Zoey stepped in ahead of him. The procedure room was spacious and well-lit, arranged in a way that inspired immediate realibity: two tattoo beds carefully positioned, one area clearly set up for tattooing and the other for piercing, each with its tools laid out in almost meticulous order. The decor mirrored the reception with the same style of paintings, the same shades of purple… Everything had a strong identity, a distinct style.
A girl was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, beside the printer quietly working on the stencil. She seemed to belong to the space, as if she completed it. Her long hair, dyed lilac, was tied into a thick braid that fell over her shoulder. She wore black pants and a white cropped top, revealing a tattoo that began at her collarbone, spread across her shoulder, and ran down her right arm all the way to her wrist like a lightning formed by abstract lines in shades of purple, tracing the entire length.
When the girl lifted her brown eyes and smiled at Zoey, her heart gave a small jolt.
“Hey,” the girl said simply, Zoey smiled back, shy, a little stiff. She hadn’t expected the tattoo artist to be… that pretty “First tattoo, right?”
“Is it that obvious?” Zoey shot back, and the girl stifled a laugh before nodding.
“Relax…” she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. “It’ll hurt less than you think. I just need to check if this size works or if we need to print another version.”
She picked up the freshly printed design and gestured for Zoey to come closer.
“On Instagram, you said you wanted it on your thigh, but you didn’t say which one…” she pointed to a spot near a side cart filled with supplies. “You can stand here, please.”
“I hadn’t decided yet… but we can go with the right,” Zoey replied.
The girl nodded and pulled over a low stool, sitting at the level of her hips. Zoey felt her blood run cold at the sudden closeness, forcing herself to think of anything other than the unexpected attraction that had cut through her in that instant.
The tattoo artist moved with an ease that was almost effortless , natural, and at the same time a little intimidating. Maybeshe was liking the mystery. Zoey watched her closely, trying to piece together something about her from the small changes in her expression as she worked.
“Is that a… unicorn dolphin?”
Zoey turned to the guy from reception, who was now standing beside them, filming the stencil in the tattoo artist’s hands. The two of them moved around the studio with an easy, almost automatic sync, and Zoey’s heart sank just a little at the thought that they might be a couple.
“Jesus, Jinu…” the tattoo artist muttered, rolling her eyes as she picked up a pen. Then she looked up at Zoey. “I’m going to make a few markings, okay? Just try to keep a natural posture.”
Zoey tried to relax her muscles as the girl began tracing a few lines along her thigh, but hearing his name brought a sudden flicker of hope. Jinu was Abby's boyfirend, the friend who had recommended the studio — so the two of them were definitely not together.
“Can you pull your shorts up a little higher?” the tattoo artist asked.
Zoey nodded and did as told, casting a quick glance at Jinu, who still looked slightly confused.
“It’s a narwhal,” she explained. “Which is actually a whale, and the ‘horn’ is a tooth. It’s one of my favorite sea animals… along with turtles and otters.”
“She asked me to create a composition with all three,” the tattoo artist added. “So I included some little fish and a few extra details.”
“And it turned out perfect. I love it, really.” the compliment slipped out before Zoey could stop herself. The tattoo artist looked up, and for a brief moment, a quiet spark of pride flickered in her eyes, a small smile lingering on her lips.
“Look…” she said, pointing to the markings she’d made with the pen as she explained. “This is the area the design will cover. Tell me if you like the size, or if you’d prefer it bigger or smaller.”
Zoey raised an eyebrow, the tattoo artist seemed slightly shy now, so different from the confidence she’d shown before. She walked over to the mirror, studying the markings and trying to picture the design there.
“What do you think?” Zoey asked. She didn’t have any tattoo references, and since it was her first, she felt more comfortable relying on a professional opinion.
“It’s a detailed design…” Jinu said. “I’d go a little bigger.”
“Says the guy with zero tattoos,” the tattoo artist shot back, stepping in behind Zoey in front of the mirror. “But I do think it could be a bit bigger too… it’ll fill the space better.”
“Like… three centimeters bigger, then?” Zoey suggested.
The girl smiled, nodding.
“It’ll be perfect.”
Within minutes, the new stencil was printed. The tattoo artist slipped on gloves and a mask, preparing to clean the skin. Zoey wasn’t entirely sure how to help, so she tried to stay as still as much as her nerves allowed. She felt her cheeks warm when the tattoo artist’s focused gaze met hers, though now it was harder to read her expression behind the mask.
“So…” Zoey began, searching for something to say, genuinely curious to learn more about her. “Are you going to tell me your name, or is that part of the mysterious tattoo artist aesthetic? Since there’s nothing about you on your professional profile…”
The tattoo artist laughed , a soft, genuine sound that Zoey found herself hoping to hear again.
Sitting back down on the stool, she finished cleaning the skin before looking up at Zoey once more, her eyes glinting with something almost playful.
“My name is Rumi…” she said, tilting her head slightly as she turned her attention back to the procedure. “But please don’t spread it around. Not all my clients know.”
“You thought the tattoo artist would be some weird, grumpy old man?” Jinu asked, appearing beside them to film again, just as Rumi pressed the stencil onto Zoey’s skin.
“I knew it was a woman, and that already made me feel better,” Zoey replied, glancing at Jinu from the corner of her eye, studying his reaction. “I have a friend from the gym… Abby…” she lowered her gaze back to Rumi. “He showed me a tattoo he got with you and gave me your Instagram. But he didn’t say anything about you, just your work.”
“Finally Jinu, your boyfriend bringing me some business,” Rumi commented, amused, her voice slightly muffled by the mask as she pressed the stencil more firmly against Zoey’s thigh.
“Technically, he’s not my boyfriend,” Jinu shot back, a hint of hurt in his voice.
“He told me he was…” Zoey said, frowning slightly, confused as she tried not to move.
“There wasn’t, like, a formal ask,” Jinu cut in, explaining. “We’ve been seeing each other for a few months… but nothing official so far.”
“I think…” Zoey began, remembering all the times Abby had referred to Jinu as his boyfriend. “In his head, you already are. So maybe you should be the one to ask.”
“Absolutely not!” Jinu shot back, stopping the recording. “I like romantic gestures, and he knows that…” he glanced down at Rumi. “Remind me to mute the audio on this before posting.”
“Never trust someone with pink hair…” Rumi replied, her voice a little quieter this time. Her gaze sharpened slightly as she peeled the stencil back. “In the end, they never claim you.”
“Your crazy ex-girlfriend didn’t even have pink hair back then. And Abby’s different,” Jinu countered.
Zoey couldn’t help the small smile that slipped onto her lips as she caught that detail — Rumi dated women.
“I’ve been seeing a girl with pink hair. Nothing serious… but she’s been really sweet so far,” Zoey said, it was the easiest way she found to make her sexual orientation clear while watched the tattoo artist closely, searching for any sign she might have a chance. “Maybe the pink hair isn’t the problem.”
“Maybe…” Rumi replied. “But after what I’ve been through, I’m a little suspicious.” She stepped back slightly to assess the design on Zoey’s thigh. “Take a look in the mirror. If you like the placement, we can get started.”
With the design now on her skin, everything felt different. Zoey stared at her reflection, a genuine excitement blooming in her chest.
It was perfect.
The composition, the details, the way it fit her thigh even without Rumi having had any prior reference of her body when creating it. She smiled, approving, and Rumi gestured toward the bed for her to lie down.
“Afraid of the pain?” she asked, organizing the rest of the materials. Jinu left the room, giving them a bit more privacy, and Zoey avoided looking at the needles lined up on the side cart.
“A little. Actually, I’m not a big fan of needles… but it’ll be worth it.”
“Talking helps,” Rumi said, and Zoey felt her gaze on her before she even looked up. “Tell me about that girl… Have you known her long?”
Zoey smiled, enjoying the little game. Rumi sounded casual, but there was something in her tone… A subtle curiosity that felt like more than just professional.
“About two weeks… I’m actually new in the city,” Zoey explained. “I moved here about a month and a half ago for college, and I was using Tinder to meet new people. That’s how I met her… but we agreed to keep things casual. She got out of a relationship recently, from what she told me.”
Behind the mask, it was hard to read Rumi’s expression, but she nodded in understanding. For a moment, Zoey thought she wouldn’t say anything. The tattoo artist seemed completely focused on what she was doing, her movements light and precise. Then, eventually, she let out a soft sigh.
“It’s nice when you find someone who wants the same thing,” she said, with a small laugh. “I tried those apps too, but I didn’t have much luck. I think I prefer meeting people in a more… organic way.”
“That makes sense. I feel like when you go on those apps looking for a relationship, it never works,” Zoey agreed. She was so caught up in the conversation that she didn’t even notice when Rumi moved closer again to check the stencil lines. “I’ve always had an easy time making friends, but moving to a new city made me a little anxious. So I downloaded it more to meet people, make friends, find things to do… and whatever happened, happened.”
“I’m going to start the tattoo now,” Rumi said, adjusting her position before turning the machine on. “But you can keep talking. If it starts to hurt or you want to take a break, just let me know.”
She paused briefly before adding:
“But yeah… I think people don’t really make an effort to get to know someone on those apps. That frustrates me a little.”
“And what were you looking for there? A relationship?” Zoey asked.
She held her breath as she watched the needle move closer to her skin. Her hands instinctively gripped the bed, fingers tightening against the padding. But when she felt the first line, her mind relaxed in surprise:
“I… I thought it would hurt more.”
Rumi laughed softly, nodding.
“When I say it doesn’t hurt that much, no one believes me.” She didn’t take her eyes off the design, completely focused, and Zoey decided to focus on her instead — anything to distract herself from the fact that there was, in fact, a needle moving across her skin. “But… about the app…” she went on, her voice a little quieter. “Honestly, I don’t know. I was in a relationship for almost two years, and the breakup was pretty… bad.”
There was a brief pause before she continued:
“I think I just wanted to meet new people… and try to forget.”
Zoey wanted to ask more. She wanted to know what had been so bad, who that person had been, what exactly had happened that needed to be forgotten. But the melancholic glint that passed through Rumi’s gaze made every question die before it could even take shape.
She leaned her head back against the bed. It was slightly uncomfortable to stay still for so long, especially for someone who always had too much energy, and Zoey found herself wishing she’d brought a book or her Nintendo Switch to distract herself during the procedure.
Instead, she focused on Rumi.
She watched the way she held her breath before each line, how her concentrated gaze drifted over the skin as if it were a piece of art, and how her hands were firm and precise, yet still gentle. Zoey felt her cheeks warm when she realized how much she was enjoying those touches and immediately scolded herself for it.
Rumi was being professional. She couldn’t read it as anything else.
Still, she couldn’t quite shake the strange flicker of happiness at the thought of the long hours they would still spend there, together.
“Are you living here on your own?” Rumi asked after a few minutes of silence.
She turned off the machine for a moment, stretching before shifting her position, searching for a more comfortable angle to continue. At that moment, Jinu came back into the room and handed Zoey a bottle of water, which she accepted with a grateful smile.
“No, I’m living with my dad, but it’s kind of… weird,” she replied.
Jinu raised an eyebrow.
“Complicated relationship?” he asked, leaning against the other bed nearby. “We’ve all got daddy issues here.”
“Yeah, I mean…” Zoey sighed, opening the bottle. “My parents split up when I was about seven. They had shared custody, so I’d spend half the year in the U.S. with him because of his job, and the other half here. And it was… complicated.”
Rumi nodded, letting the pause linger so Zoey could drink some water and keep talking at her own pace.
“When we moved back to Korea for good, I ended up living with my mom during high school, and I kind of drifted away from my dad during that time.” She sighed again, taking the chance to stretch her leg. “He’s pretty distant. Sometimes we don’t even talk, and when we do, it’s about things I liked when I was a kid… It feels like he doesn’t really know me anymore. But I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing. It’s just… strange.”
“That must’ve been hard, moving around all the time…” Rumi said, turning the machine back on, though it took her a moment to start tattooing again. “Maybe that’s why you felt anxious about moving here.”
“Yeah… I think so,” Zoey agreed. She held back a small wince as the needle hit a more sensitive spot, but didn’t say anything , she didn’t want to interrupt Rumi’s work. “And I like it here. With classes starting, I think I’ll settle in better… even with the situation with my dad.”
“Fathers, present or not, are always a problem,” Jinu said with a sigh. “I don’t know if Abby told you…” Zoey shook her head, trying to remember if it had ever come up. “But I’m bi, and my dad hasn’t spoken to me since I came out .. it’s been about three years now.”
“Oh, Jinu… I’m so sorry,” Zoey began, but he shrugged.
“It’s okay… it’s not something that gets to me anymore.” He smiled, then tilted his chin toward Rumi. “And honestly, none of our stories compare to hers.”
“Please…” Rumi groaned, without taking her eyes off her work. “Did this turn into a therapy session?”
“I’m paying for a tattoo instead of a therapist, so… yeah,” Zoey replied, smiling satisfied when she managed to pull another laugh from Rumi.
“Okay, fair.” Rumi paused to wipe the design before continuing. “I have two moms… and two different versions of the story, because each of them tells it differently,” she said, shaking her head slightly, already a bit annoyed. “But the short version is: my mom and my father were actors when they were younger. Nothing big, just a few leading roles in indie films and musicals. They were together for a long time, but it was never really official. My mom ended up getting pregnant… and he just disappeared from her life.”
“Oh my God, Rumi… I’m so sorry,” Zoey said, not quite sure how to comfort her. Her own issues with her dad suddenly felt so small. “You never met him?”
“I did. By accident, about four months ago,” Rumi replied. “I signed up for a tattoo workshop … An advanced class, to improve my color work, and… guess who the instructor was.”
“What?” Zoey’s voice came out a little higher, a mix of surprise and the sharp sting of the needle. “Oh my God, Rumi… did you talk to him?”
“Yeah…” Rumi said after a moment. “And it was weird. I’ve always been drawn to tattooing, ever since I was a kid, and I never really understood where that came from. Apparently, he always liked it too… and ended up changing careers not long after I was born.”
She sighed, still not taking her eyes off the Zoey's skin, maybe because it was a more delicate subject.
“I felt guilty for feeling that connection. You know? With someone who didn’t want anything to do with me when I was a baby… but who, in that moment, seemed to want to make up for lost time.” Rumi paused briefly before continuing. “In the end… he helped me open the studio late last year, as a kind of ‘Christmas gift’ to make up for all those years he was gone.”
Zoey blinked, surprised.
“Wait… seriously?”
“The thing is, my moms don’t know. They didn’t even know I was already tattooing, because I was working as an apprentice in other studios…” Rumi let out a small, nervous laugh. “They’re very anti-tattoo. I don’t know if it’s because of him or just prejudice… maybe both.” She shrugged. “That’s why there’s no personal information on the studio’s profile.”
“Wow… okay. That actually makes a lot of sense now,” Zoey said with a soft sigh, resting her head back against the bed again as she tried to process everything. “And you and your dad… are you in touch?”
“Only online. He travels a lot teaching tattoo workshops, he’s in a different city every week,” Rumi replied.
“And I’m guessing your moms don’t know about that either, right?”
“Not even close,” Rumi laughed, though the insecurity in her voice was unmistakable. “I’d be completely screwed if they found out… Especially now that I have my own studio…”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
Rumi lifted her gaze for a moment. Even with the mask, Zoey caught the shift in her eyes and knew she was smiling.
“Thank you, Zoey.”
The vibration of Zoey’s phone in her pocket pulled both of them out of that small trance. Rumi went back to focusing on her work while Zoey reached for her phone, smiling when she saw the notification.
Mira (Tinder): How’s the tattoo going?
Mira (Tinder): Does it hurt?
Mira (Tinder): Send me a pic of how it’s lookinggg
“Rumi, can I take a picture of the tattoo?” Zoey asked.
“You can, just crop my face if you post it,” she said, glancing up briefly at Jinu, who was still in the room. “Come film a bit more?”
Zoey nodded, opened the camera, zoomed in on the design, and snapped the picture directly through her chat with Mira before sending it.
Zoeeey 🐢: Looook
Zoeeey 🐢: It hurts in some spots, but it’s manageable
Zoeeey 🐢: I thought it would hurt more, based on what you said
It took a moment for Mira to reply. Zoey caught herself smiling, realizing how easy it was to talk to her. Maybe it was because they had both been so clear about what they wanted from this and were just enjoying each other’s company, no expectations attached.
Mira (Tinder): Mine hurt 😭
Mira (Tinder): But it’s looking beautiful
Mira (Tinder): Are you still coming for dinner? Looks like it might take a while
Zoey glanced down at the design on her leg. They weren’t even halfway through yet. Maybe she had been a little too optimistic scheduling a date right after the appointment.
Zoeeey 🐢: I don’t think dinner’s happening 😅
Zoeeey 🐢: But if you don’t mind the time, I can come over afterMira (Tinder): Then stay over
Mira (Tinder): We can go to class together tomorrowZoeeey 🐢: Deal, cutie 😻
Zoeeey 🐢: I'll keep you in the loop
Zoey set her phone aside and turned her attention back to the procedure. Everything still felt new to her, so she focused on every detail, using it as a distraction.
“I think I’m going to grab something for us to eat during the break,” Jinu said, and Rumi nodded in agreement.
After they decided what each of them wanted, he left the room, leaving his phone set up on a tripod to keep recording the rest of the procedure while he was gone.
“I saw a TikTok once…” Zoey started after a while, trying to make conversation with something completely random. “…a girl saying her tattoo artist sat on her lap to tattoo her collarbone. Is that normal?”
Rumi had to stop mid-line for a moment, laughing as she shook her head.
“Tattooing the collarbone can be a bit of an awkward position… but I’ve never sat on a client’s lap.”
“Really?” Zoey raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile already forming on her lips. “I could get my next tattoo on my collarbone, if you want to test it.”
To Zoey’s surprise, Rumi held her gaze for a moment. Zoey hated that the mask hid the smile that was probably there.
“We don’t need to schedule another tattoo to test that…” Rumi said calmly. “But I’m sure you’d look even more beautiful with a collarbone tattoo.”
Zoey felt her cheeks warm. She wasn’t used to flirting with someone who actually matched her energy like that. Rumi, on the other hand, seemed quite pleased with the reaction, letting out a soft laugh before returning her focus to her sking again.
☾ ⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*
Mira had been staring at the photo Zoey had sent for a while by the time she finished the tattoo.
The design looked beautiful. The image showed only her thigh, still resting on the bed, the skin slightly swollen and flushed from the procedure. Even so, Mira could recognize that style, the linework, the precisely placed shading, the way every detail came together so seamlessly.
No… it couldn’t be.
She shook her head, refusing to believe it. There were plenty of tattoo artists in the city with somewhat similar styles. There was no way Zoey’s tattoo artist could be her ex-girlfriend.
Mira swiped across the screen, moving to the other photo Zoey had sent during the procedure, but that one was just a close-up of the tattoo. There was nothing else in the frame. No wall, no decoration, nothing that could give away where the picture had been taken.
She was already starting to feel a little obsessed, spending so much time staring at the photo. Still, she decided to dig deeper. Mira opened Instagram and switched to a fake account she kept just to… stalk Rumi’s life. Then she searched for the studio’s profile, which immediately appeared among her recent searches.
She knew that, somehow, Rumi had managed to open her own studio just a few weeks after their breakup, repurposing her old tattoo account to promote the new space. And even though Mira had never been there, she had seen enough photos of it to know she’d recognize it instantly.
Just as she was about to tap on the profile picture to open the story, the apartment buzzer rang, making her jolt on the couch.
Zoey.
Zoey was already here.
Mira had been so absorbed in analyzing the image that she didn’t even notice the time passing. The building concierge had probably already let her in because Zoey had been becoming a frequent visitor.
Mira set her phone aside and walked to the door, trying to compose herself along the way. She would look into it later. Maybe even ask Zoey something about the artist who did her tattoo… but she didn’t want to play the role of the obsessive ex.
She took a long breath and opened the door, smiling instinctively when she saw Zoey standing there, already opening her arms to pull her into a hug.
“Hey, pretty girl.” Zoey said and smiled to the side, that mischievous way that had drawn Mira in from their very first date, and stepped forward, settling into her arms before cupping her face and pulling her into a quick kiss. “Sorry I’m late. I didn’t think it would take that long… I owe you dinner.”
“Actually, I made you something to eat anyway,” Mira said, stealing another quick kiss. Her heart was still beating a little faster from the anxiety just moments ago, but Zoey had a way of softening everything. “Do you want it?”
“Mmm… I’d never say no to your cooking,” Zoey replied, nudging Mira back into the apartment without letting go of her. “But I do have some restrictions because of the tattoo.”
“I know, that’s why I made just a salad.”
Mira finally pulled away from the hug and looked off to the side, making sure Zoey wouldn’t catch any trace of the tension in her expression. She chose not to mention that she had dated a tattoo artist for almost two years and because of that, she knew exactly how the aftercare worked.
While Zoey ate, she talked animatedly about the tattoo, the pain, how the process had gone, but didn’t say anything about the artist or the studio. Mira decided that if she was going to bring it up, it would be another time.
As they talked, her gaze kept drifting back to the tattoo, but she could no longer tell if she was being paranoid or if those lines really were familiar.
Zoey had been a good company. The only girl Mira had gone on more than one date with since things ended with Rumi — and she didn’t want to ruin that by pulling Zoey into her own mess.
“There’s just one problem: I wasn’t planning on staying over, so I didn’t bring anything to wear tomorrow,” Zoey said as they tidied up the kitchen. “Can we stop by my place before we go to class?”
“You can wear something of mine, if you want,” Mira replied, looking Zoey up and down. She tended to wear more oversized clothes, so her shirts would probably fit just right on her. “I think it’ll work.”
“I’ll take that, I’m way too lazy to go back home,” Zoey said, leaning back against the counter.
Mira raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it.
She knew Zoey’s relationship with her dad wasn’t the best, and she found herself quietly glad to be able to offer her a place to stay, even if just for a while.
Mira finished putting the dishes away and turned back to her, closing the distance between them. She braced one hand on each side of the counter, caging Zoey in between her arms.
“Do you want to watch a movie or… go to the bedroom?” Mira asked.
Zoey rolled her eyes dramatically, but Mira already knew the answer from the smile playing on her lips.
“We have class tomorrow, cutie,” Zoey pointed out.
“It’s only at night…” Mira coaxed, leaning in closer. One of her hands reached up to brush the loose strands of Zoey’s hair away from her neck, making space to press a few soft kisses against her skin, smiling to herself as she felt her shiver under the touch. “We’ve got plenty of time. Monday’s my only day off from that stupid café, and I can stay in bed a little longer with this beautiful woman.”
Mira pulled back, pleased when she managed to draw a more timid smile from Zoey. A faint redness spread across her cheeks, dusting over her freckles.
“You look cute when you blush like that.”
“Shut up,” Zoey said, her voice edged with a restrained laugh, and Mira closed her eyes just before Zoey pulled her into a kiss.