Swerving Lines

Isla found herself lost in thoughts. The blonde strolled down the sidewalk trying to recap the day and what was to come for the rest of it. It was hard being in a new city and trying to blend in. She was born to stick out, even despite her attempts. Her eyes drifted over her emails where she paused for a moment unbeknownst to her that her picture was being taken. Her strides continued, heels clicking against the stone pavement. She kept aware of her surroundings, her head turning to the side noticing a male standing there with his camera. She gave him a once over, ready to continue when curiosity won over. “Catch anything interesting?”

Kveta bit her lip, but nodded. She really was unsure of his kindness. “Yeah, yews cain take all t'e pictures yews nee’.” It made her feel beautiful for once in her life. Her cheeks blushed and she tucked her mouth against her knees. She was looking up at him. She almost wondered about following him home and breaking into his house. It was a long shot for a warm bed. And there were too many things which could go wrong. She’d probably just end up sleeping outside his shop.

“Yews cain stay,” she murmured. “T'ere ain’ no one else aroun’. ‘Sides, if someone tries ta ge’ yew, I cain always bea’ t'eir ass fer yew.” Though he was probably far more capable of knocking someone out than she was. Or maybe she just wanted him to stay because she was lonely…. And he was the first person to give her the time of day.

“Paymen’??” Her golden hues narrowed. “Ain’ yew normally nee’ people ta pay yew ta be in yewr pictures?” She had taken the money and was now drawing her knees to her chest. She wrapped her skinny arms around her legs. In that moment she looked far more like a child than a teenager. Kveta sighed. She knew she shouldn’t be so hesitant to accept help, but she couldn’t help it. She had been hurt far too many times.

“T'anks, I’s guess.” She looked to the ground between them. She offered a nervous little smile. “Cain I’s jus’ give i’ back as downpaymen’ on my tattoo tamorrow?”

She nodded and smiled again. “Ts Czech. ‘Ts wha’ I’s is.” She didn’t know much of the language since she’d never been taught. “My brot'er name me…” Golden hues looked away and she didn’t say anymore on the subject. The lid on that can was shut tightly. She wasn’t about to open up to some stranger about her family.

“I ain’ need charity,” she huffed. Her golden hues glanced at him warily. Still she bit her lip. $40 she didn’t have to have sex for?? She sighed and snatched the money, stuffing it in her bra. “Wha'chya wan’ fer i’? Wha’ angle is yew tryna play?” She wasn’t used to anyone helping her without wanting something in return.

The girl nodded. Eleven was actually fairly late. She never got to sleep in that late. It wasnt safe for a girl like herself. She’d probably dig out something to eat before she headed over to his shop. However, he stopped her in her thoughts when he asked about her name. It wasn’t often that she was asked about it. Her cheeks dusted a light rose and her smile softened for a fraction of a second. “It means flower,” she replied, brushing her hair behind her ear. It had been a long time since she thought about that. Or how her brother had named her.

She turned her head up to look at the bird he was taking pictures of her. She glanced back at him for a moment and bit her lip. “Yews go’ twenty bucks fer dinner? I’s suck yewr dick if yews wan’?” Kveta had no sense of shame. This was her life and she was hungry. She raised her brow at him and shook out her hair.

The man nodded with a small smile. “Do you know what language it’s from?” Putting his camera down, he looked up at her when she asked for money, and then offered to go down on him for it. He wasn’t mad, and it wasn’t the first time a woman had propositioned him like that. If anything, it made him sad. To think that she easily resorted to that, because that’s what she was probably used to. 

“T'anks dude!” Kveta didn’t care how long it took to draw up. As long as that ink eventually got on to her skin. There was definitely more to wanting what she wanted, but it wasn’t something she ever, ever spoke of. She just wanted to feel pretty again. She just wanted to feel comfortable in her own skin– maybe even for the first time. “When is yewr shop open?” She was certain she could find her way there with ease. She knew this city like the back of her hand.

Apparently this dude didn’t get her joke. Digging around in the trash would have been candid for her. She did that on a daily basis. Still she nodded when he gave her his name. “Lucius,” she tested his name out on her tongue once before offering her own up. “M'name’s Kveta.” She took a step back and perched atop the bench. Looking up to the sky and seeing the sunlight fading, she knew she needed more space. She didn’t want to be caught off guard if this guy tried something. Sometimes people felt more comfortable under the cover of darkness. She had been hurt far too many times, especially by men, for her to be able to trust that this guy would be any different.

“It’s usually open from around eleven in the morning to seven. Sometimes we run a bit later if we need to finish up on a customer”, he explained. “That’s a name I don’t usually hear. What does it mean?” Lucius was always up for learning new names or words and their origins, or what they meant. He was glad to see that she seemed more relaxed now, as she sat back atop the bench. That didn’t mean she trusted him, and she had every right not to. This city wasn’t exactly the friendliest or safest. Lucius had a feeling she knew that better than he did. 

“I wan’ a tiger an’ some roses. Or somet'in’ badass like t'at.” Her grin was back in full force. This dude was actually going to tattoo her. Many artists hadn’t because of her age. They didn’t want to deal with a kid like her in the shop with no one to sign for her. This guy didn’t seem to care. While that might look shoddy in other people’s eyes, she didn’t give a fuck. She was more than excited. “Cain yews do t'at??” She was nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet as she gazed up at him, her dark brow raised.

The girl blushed again when he explained that was how she looked to him. Her gaze fell to the ground and she didn’t know what to say. Kveta never had believed she looked pretty, so seeing it and hearing it from another person felt strange to her. It was hard to believe, even though she wanted to. “Well, i’ ain’ exactly like I’s lookin’ like ot'er people, is i’?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “At leas’ yew ain’ gettin’ me diggin’ ‘round in t'e trash!” She threw back her head and laughed loudly.

Lucius laughed and nodded. “Yeah we can do something like that.” It wasn’t the first time he heard someone want a ‘badass’ tattoo. “It’ll take some time to draw out a few sketches, but definitely doable. After I do a sketch or two, you can tell me what you like and don’t like.” 

The girl quickly shut her mouth when she realized he had begun taking pictures of her. Her cheeks dusted rose, unsure of how to stand. But soon enough he had piqued her intrest. She leaned in, her golden hues wide. “Yews work a’ a tattoo store? Will yews tatoo me??” She sure as hell hoped he would. She had been wanting a tattoo for a long time. Maybe now was her chance to actually get one.

“I’s cain affor’ i’.” She dug around in her pockets to pull out a fat wad of cash which she jad earned from both street fighting and selling herself. “I’s been savin’ up!” She grinned up at him, all teeth shining in the street light which had finally come on.

However, when he showed her the picture, her smile faded. It turned into a far more wistful look. “‘Ow’d yew make me look so pretty? I ain’ really look like t'at….” She paused. “'Sides, does yewr custamers really wanna see a 'omeless chick when t'eys gettin’ all tatted up??”

It was obvious that she was trying to figure out how to change her demeanour for the camera, but he had already taken the pictures he wanted. Lucius wasn’t a fan of posed pictures, as much as the candid ones. “Yeah, sure. Why not. What kind of tattoo were you thinking of?” 

She was shocked. She had been sure he would tell her to fuck off– to stop ruining his photoshoot. She had even been prepared to sass him. Instead he wanted her to stay. He wanted to take her pictures. The brassy girl hesitated, glancing around as if he had been speaking to someone else. “Me??” She pointed to herself, confused, as she looked back up at him, brows furled together.

Kveta shook her head. “I’s ain’ unique, bu’ yews cain take pictures of me if yews wanna, I’s guess. I ain’ go’ not'in’ better ta do.” Though, now she looked awkward amd out of place, totally unsure of what to do. Attention wasn’t something she was used to, especially in this capacity.

“Jus’… jus’ don’ pu’ my pictures in none of t'ose poverty t'ingys. I ain’ no one’s poster girl!” She didn’t like people pitying her. She had done something she was sure most people couldn’t. She had survived out here. Alone. She didn’t need anyone pouring over her pictures while drinking fancy wines lile she had glimpsed through the windows of the art museum.

Her innocence and naivety was endearing. Lucius knew there was no way he could truly capture that on his camera, but he would sure as hell try. As soon as she had agreed, he had already started to snap away and take pictures as she continued to talk. Quickly making a few lighting adjustments, he took a couple more shots that would emphasize her silhouette in the midst of the background. The sun was starting to go down slowly, but the lighting was just perfect for what he had in mind. 

Kveta had wandered down from her hidinv hole to watch this man photographing. He spent several minutes twisting the lens back and forth, giving her ample time to perch atop the park bench which he was focused on. She was sure he had seen her. Though her head cocked to the side as the camera clicked several times. However, it wasn’t until he pulled away and looked at the little screen did he notice the tiny female. Her lips pulled into an amused grin. She was totally unsure how he hadn’t seen her before. Though, if she was honest, she was used to people not noticing her…

“Sure, buddy,” she hummed, crawling off the bench in a cat-like manner. “I’s flattered, t'ough. Ain’ nobody usually wanna take no pictures of me.” The girl was covered in bruises and wore a split lip proudly. Her clothes were dirty and worn. And her hair, though pulled off her face in a ponytail, was greasy and dirty. It was quite clear that she lived on the streets.

“So, do ya take pictures of people like me, often?”

A polite played across his lips as he watched her curiously. It was clear that she was used to roaming around the streets. Her body language was enough indication to how comfortable she was out here. Most people, especially women, usually kept to one spot on a park bench. But not this girl. 

Chuckling at her words, he crossed his arms in front of him as she spoke, still holding onto the camera. “I would gladly take your picture if you would let me. I don’t often see someone like you. You’re very unique” he pointed out.