Meum Pactum Dictum

[Wednesday]

Ever since i moved to Gradean Valley I have always felt like someone has been watching me. I learned quickly that new people didn't move to the valley very often, so I become the center of attention for the first time in my life and so far I hated it. I liked being separated from everyone else; it is just easier that way.

As time went on people seemed to slowly adjust to my presence in the town and have stopped staring but the feeling of being watched still hasn't gone away. Most days I ignore it, but others i can hardly do anything without looking over my shoulder. I can hardly sleep some nights. Do you know how hard it is to run a tattoo parlor when you haven't had any sleep? Of course no one wants to have you put a needle to your skin when you haven't had any sleep. Those are my dead days, and when i do get sleep I'm always surprised how many people come into my shop with how small this town is.

Today was one of those days. No business what so ever. I must radiate exhaustion. I usually just stay behind the counter with my head rested on the sample book, and just about to fall asleep I got the feeling of being watched stronger than ever. All my muscles tightened and my heart began to beat faster. Then something strange happened, the bell for the front door rang. I lifted my head to see a man step into my shop. He looked about 5'11" dressed mostly in black to include his jacket, pants and boots. Even his short hair was black. The only thing that was not black was his white shirt, his lightly tanned skin, and his bright blue eyes.

My speeding heart stopped all together for a few beats, but not because he was gorgeous, which he was, but also because I knew with every fiber of my being that he was the one that had been watching me.

[Wednesday]

I swallowed the urge to run for the backdoor and gave him the friendliest smile I could muster. “Welcome to Inked, how can I help you?” I asked standing up straight and brushing a strand of hair out of my face.

For a moment he just stared at me. It felt as if he was looking into my soul. “I’m just here to look.” He answered simply. He kept his eyes glued to mine as if it wasn’t the art he was interested in.

“Um… alright,” I said having to force myself to focus. He had this kind of magnetic pull to him that was causing my brain to stop functioning completely. “There… are a few samples on the wall… as well as a good number in this book. “ I said pushing the sample book forward. “I also do custom tattoos.”

He simply came to the desk where the book was and flipped it open. I sighed with relief because his eyes were finally looking away from mine. “Just tell me if you find anything or if you would like any suggestions.” I couldn’t help thinking of what might look good for him, as well as where good places for tattoos would be.

I moved over to a chair behind the counter and sat down hoping in part that he would look through the book then leave, but also that he would possibly stay. For some reason the more he stayed the more the strange feeling I got from him seemed to fade. I guess I was feeling a little more comfortable now that I knew exactly who was watching me.

I watched him flip through a few more pages in a nonchalant manner, then stop and look up at me. “Would you be able to do writing?” He asked his blue eyes were so intense on mine I was frozen on the spot.

[Wednesday]

“… Of course,” I said standing, “I would just need to know what words, the font, and where you would like to put it.”

“The words are Meum pactum dictum.” He said and I could tell he was wondering if I knew what that meant. I didn’t, all I knew was that it was Latin. “I want it on my back across my shoulder blades.” This was a widely used area for tattoos, I nodded. “And I want it in just normal handwriting, yours would be fine.” This part surprised me. What if my handwriting was terrible? It wasn’t but that was a bit of a risk on his part.

“Would you like me to write it out to make sure that is what you want?” I asked. He shook his head. “Alrighty then I need you to write it down, and then I need to see the area you want tattooed.” I said handing him a peace of paper.

He wrote down the words then handed it back to me. It surprised me how neat his handwriting was, it had a gentle curve to it.

“Now let’s look at your shoulders to see how you might like it. I can use a regular pen right now to show what it might look like.” I glanced back up at him and he looked a bit hesitant. “What’s the matter?” I asked.

His eyes met mine and a little timid he said, “Could we go somewhere not so open?” He looked over his shoulder out the window to the empty street.

“Of course,” I said feeling a bit nervous now. “Follow me.” I led him to one of the back rooms and he closed the door behind us. I’ve always been thankful for my dad telling me to take some martial arts and defense classes. He was worried some buff biker guy would come in and try to attack me. So far I haven’t had to use the classes, and I hoped that I wouldn’t have to do it tonight.

We stood there for a moment and then he began to take off his jacket. His arms toned while still being slim. They were the perfect arms for my art but my interest was his back at this moment not his arms. He turned his back toward me then looked over his shoulder. I couldn’t understand the look in his eyes. He then pulled his shirt off and I understood.

On the ridges of his shoulder blades were two large scars. However, instead of the neutral skin tones scars normally give these where black. I walked toward him. I could see him watching me over his shoulder. My fingers hovered over the scars for a moment then very gently I touched the black. His muscles tensed and he looked away. I had been so distracted by the marks on his shoulder blades that I missed what was at the center of his back. There between his shoulder blades in very fine handwriting were the words that he wanted me to place on his back.

“The words are already here,” I said taking a step away and realized he had placed himself between me and the only exit. By the time my eyes moved from him to the door and then back to him he had turned around to face me and grabbed me by the wrists.

“I’m not here for a tattoo.” He said his eyes freezing me in place.