The Tattoo Artist (La Petite Mort #1)

11. Chapter 11

eleven

Quinn

I t was Friday, and classes were back to normal. I made a beeline for the dining hall to meet Sophie, who was probably already sitting down with a bag of chips.

As I entered the dining hall, I moved toward the line and grabbed my lunch and two cookies, but I wasn't really hungry. I wanted confirmation. I sat with Sophie, who went on about her date with a med student. But the entire time, my mind was on Alexander. His words from last night kept replaying in my head. I wasn't too sure what this really meant for us. I thought about asking Sophie, but she would probably get mad that I was hanging out with him again.

"Because μωρ? , a friend, would not be thinking about having you underneath him.I can't promise you I won't cross that line of wanting to have you underneath me screaming my name. Begging me to make you cum. So, the answer is no. We can 't be friends."

Was he underneath me, like in status or power? I stabbed my fork into my chicken parmesan and stared at Sophie move her lips, but I had no idea what she was saying. I remembered his touch around my body, and God, I wanted to feel his hands all over me. I wanted to feel his warmth take over my body. I wanted to fall into his temptation.

"Sophie, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, girly. What's up?" She smiled, and I gulped. It was now or never. The images that filled my head that night and continued to fill my head over the weekend and through the week were sinful, but I was sure that was what he meant. What else would he mean?

"What does it mean when someone says they want you underneath them?" Sophie squealed, jumping from the table and sitting right next to me.

"It means they want to fuck you." She grinned, and my eyes widened.

"F–fuck me?" I asked before sipping my water as I tried to cool the fire growing inside me. Did I want Alexander to fuck me? Duh! His words played on repeat.

'Begging me to make you cum.'

'Begging me to make you cum.'

'Begging me to make you cum.'

"Hmm, they want to have sex with you. Wait, why are you asking? Did someone tell you this, Quinn?" She questioned. Well, it was more like she interrogated me.

"No, of course not. I read it in some book yesterday," I said almost naturally, keeping my hands occupied so I wouldn't play with the ends of my hair. Alexander probably thought I was this inexperienced Catholic girl, which is true, but still. I looked back up at Sophie and returned to staring at my food.

Alexander wanted to have sex with me. And for some bizarre reason, I wanted that. And I wanted that experience with him. The crazy part in all this was that I could imagine Alexander touching me, a pool of wetness formed between my legs, and the butterflies appeared with a vengeance. What the fuck? I tighten my legs together.

"Do you want to come with me to the tattoo shop tomorrow? I'm finally going in for my back tattoo." Sophie said as she grabbed the cookie from my lunch tray.

I snapped back into reality once I heard that I had an opportunity to see Alexander again. Hell yeah, I was going. And that was when it hit me. I knew exactly what I needed to do to get the experience I needed.

"Yeah, I'll go. Text me the time. I have to go to class." I said, standing up and packing some of the food to go.

Sophie sucked her fingers clean, cleaning the chocolate that was left behind from the cookie. "Hey, can I use your Wi-Fi tonight?" I asked, taking the risk now before I chickened out.

"Sure, why?" She asked, signaling if she could get the last cookie from my tray. Too busy eating with her eyes closed as she moaned from the chewy goodness, I answered her question.

"Because my parents put parental controls on the Wi-Fi, and now I can't watch the new episodes of Bridgerton." I played with the ends of my hair; thankfully, she still had her eyes closed. She opened her eyes and looked at me before taking the last bite of her cookie. She rolled her eyes, and I knew she believed what I had told her.It's sad when you actually think about it. My parents went to extreme measures to ensure I didn't get corrupted. Their reasoning was to protect me from bad things. They wanted to stop me from sinning.

"I'll send you the password." I smiled at her as we went our separate ways. I pushed open the classroom door and settled down at the back of the class. Students entered as I opened my bag to retrieve my phone and sketchbook. I took out a variety of pencils that I tend to use every day and placed them on my desk as the teacher walked in with a bright smile.

"Good afternoon, class!" She tossed her belongings to the side and draped an apron around her waist as she glanced around. "Could you all please settle down?" Mrs. Ryan is a one-of-a-kind teacher and my favorite. She understood my art.

"As you know, it is time to review your sketchbooks. But I have some exciting news!" The class settled down, wanting to hear the exciting news. "I will be choosing one person to get a scholarship to The New School in New York and one scholarship to the Royal College of Art." My eyes widened for both the art schools, one in London and the other in New York. Was she being serious?

"What?"

Students started to gossip. "All this comes down to the final project. I'm going to assign you. You will have three months to complete the project. I want something one-of-a-kind. I want to feel it deep in my bones and in my heart. I'd like you to prepare a presentation about the work you will be submitting before you start working on it. You will be utilizing class time to accomplish this. More details to come. But for now, everyone, get out your sketchbooks!" She said, clapping her hands together. I was still in shock. This scholarship would help me. No debt for my parents. This was my ticket to freedom. Suddenly, I felt another body sitting beside me; I turned my head to see Mrs.Ryan smiling at me. Her hand rested underneath her chin.

I slid my sketchbook to her, and she skimmed through it before a certain page caught her attention. "Are we in love now, are we Quinn?" I raised a brow, and she turned the book. My eyes widened with realization. I shook my head furiously. "Umm, no… he's just a stranger. I—" I started to play with the ends of my hair, and she chuckled.

"This is amazing, Quinn. The detail—the tattoos," she said as she caressed the sketch. I glanced down at the sketch I had done of Alexander.

"What's his name?"

"Alexander," I whispered. Mrs. Ryan then flipped a few pages, stopping at one of Deimos. She chose a full-body sketch, but I focused on his tattoo and eyes. "Ahhh, this one is remarkable. I can't wait to see what you prepare for this assignment, Quinn. This drawing, compared to all your other ones, is the best. And you know why that is?" I nodded, knowing exactly why because it was the same reason why I drew it .

It made me feel something just like Alexander's butterfly.

She smiled and pointed to the tattoo on his hand. "Because I feel something when I see it. The tattoo is beautiful, and the mystery behind his mask adds to the charm." She added with a wink.

I looked down at my sketch as she squeezed my shoulder and turned to face the students. She moved on to the next student, and I started drawing my concept for the following assignment. I had a fantastic idea, one that I knew she would adore.

Thanks to Alexander, I now knew what and who inspired me. If everything went according to plan, this would be one of the best pieces I'd ever created. I'd get one of the scholarships, and I'd go to New York and leave my parents behind.