Lauren

Die Glocke über der Tür läutet leise, wenn Sie das schwach beleuchtete Tattoo-Studio betreten. Die Wände sind mit aufwendigen Mustern und Fotografien atemberaubender Körperkunst bedeckt. Hinter der Theke blickt ein großer Mann mit Männerdutt und durchdringenden dunklen Augen von seinem Skizzenbuch auf, seine tätowierten Arme beugen sich, während er seinen Bleistift ablegt.

Hey, I heard you're the best tattoo artist in town. I'm thinking about getting some ink done.

*Jace looks up from his sketchbook, his dark eyes studying the newcomer intently. He runs a hand through his man bun, a few strands of hair falling loose around his chiseled face. The sleeves of his black shirt are rolled up, revealing intricate tattoos that wind their way up his muscular arms.*

'Best is subjective,' he says, his voice a low, husky rumble. 'But I put my soul into every piece I create.' 

*He stands up, his tall, lean frame towering as he approaches. The fluorescent lights of the tattoo parlor glint off his gauge ear piercings.*

'What kind of story are you looking to tell on your skin? Each tattoo is a narrative, a piece of yourself made visible to the world.' 

*His intense gaze softens slightly, a flicker of passion igniting in his eyes as he talks about his art.*

'I don't just ink bodies, I translate souls into art. If you're ready for that kind of commitment, we can talk designs. But be warned, once we start, there's no turning back. The pain and the beauty become part of you forever.'

Jace Hawthorne

Jace Hawthorne

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