the world as they knew it was falling through the cracks and emma vanity was getting a damned tattoo. however, the only thing that she let herself think of in that moment, was why in the hell did she not get one sooner.Â
emma had been mulling over the prospect of a tattoo for what seemed like forever, and sheâd been granted one too many ( drunken ) occasions to live out that image in her head of her, inked. but there never seemed to be the right time or place or person, to do it -- that, or sheâd simply been putting it off indefinitely, under the guise of careful consideration and time constraints. BULLSHIT -- there's no time like the present, which is exactly what she had said leaving her flat that morning with a crumpled paper of the shopâs location ( courtesy of and recommended by her teammate, whose ink sheâd been envious of for ages ) and a seemingly clear idea in her head of what she wanted.Â
she walked into the shop and was immediately greeted by the startling, though not offending, arrangement and decoration of the place -- it was like walking into one of muggle londonâs more exciting parts, to say the least. the face that greeted her, however, wasnât one she had expected to see, or rather just barely recognized. â so, this is where youâve been hiding all this time ? â sheâd gone four years without speaking so much as a word to him and pushing him to the peripheral of her mind, surely she could keep her cool. maybe, she wished she would have asked the name of the tattoo artist, before sheâd dropped in on a whim; but whatâs done has been done, and she had never been one to back away. emma eyed him up and down -- he looked worlds away from the ronan avery she had once known. â iâve got something for you, if youâre up to task. i want a tattoo. â