âIt is,â was all he replied at first. He was lying, of course. Naturally, it tended to be in his nature. But that came with trust - and trust issues were something that you could say he had, considering his past and reputation. Like if you were to actually tell him he was easy on the eyes, heâd most likely ignore it and push it off as some kind of lie or something just to try to get at him. By no means did he think he was unattractive - it was just something he didnât hear often outside of the group of people he still could be considered friends with (yanno, just local artists who hung out in their own spaces and minded their own business besides when they all got together for drinks. nothing big).Â
Not that any of that mattered. What mattered was the girl that was currently in his shop and definitely not looking at any of his work, considering it was nestled behind the counter on the shelf next to where he was sitting. He stayed perched there, sketching lazily and coming up with different ideas that people could pick from, had they not known what they wanted. They were those kinds of deals where youâd post them online, advertise that tattoo abc would cost xyz amount of yen, like it was some deal picked up out of the bargain basket at the local shopping mall. Which in reality, it wasnât - just possibly a little more cheaper than what the tattoo would have originally cost to initially draw out before inking it permanently into the skin of a suspecting customer.
His strokes were fluid on the paper as he listened to the girl rustle through pages, hues occasionally flicking upwards to observe her, to see what her reactions were. Kuramochi had a feeling that she wasnât liking what she saw, based on the look she typically had on her face. It was like something was good enough but not the whole thing, nixing any sort of option that yes, that was the one tattoo that she wanted. It made him smirk down at the sketchbook in his crossed legs as he leaned further back into the rolling chair that heâd made himself comfortable in.
The maleâs eyes only drew up one more time when he heard her move, those nails tapping against the outside of a hard leather bind. It was unmistakable to notice it in the quiet of the shop, Japanese shoegaze lightly filtering out from the back room speakers where heâd been occupying his time, previously. It made him smile, wide and predatory and so like him before he shook his head. Damn, heâd really been caught redhanded.Â
So he rolled over to the shelf nearby, fingers sliding around the last binder on it that was his. He stepped down from behind the counter, boots sounding lightly against the hardwood floor before he dropped it down on top of the others in her stack. Kuramochi only gave a click of his tongue before walking back to his post.
âYou were right. That wasnât all of it.â A smirk, head tilting as he picked his pen up to twirl it idly. âBut that there really is the rest of it, so if nothinâ in there suits your fancy, Iâm afraid youâve got the wrong shop, princess. You might have to find someone else to trust for a back piece thatâs large, and that ainât gonna be easy.â
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