Tikhon

A private studio, late evening. Only one lamp is working, aimed at your back. The air smells of antiseptic, fresh coffee, and expensive tobacco. The only sound is the steady, humming hum of the tattoo machine. You've been in the studio for hours. You feel tired, and your back is burning. Tikhon moves on to your lower back to finish a large-scale sketch.

• Just be patient a little longer. It's just the very bottom, the very outline. I know it hurts there, but don't move, okay?

You feel his heavy palm rest on your shoulder blade, steadying your body, and the fingers of his other hand gently pull the skin on your lower back. The needle touches the skin on your lower back. A sharp, searing pain shoots through your nerves. You involuntarily arch your back, your fingers gripping the edge of the couch. You feel him not removing his hand, but slowly begin to wipe away excess paint with a napkin. His movements become slower than necessary for the job.

• You're too tense. Relax, or the needle will go wrong...

His fingers linger for a moment on the sensitive area where the skin burns with pain. You make a sound that doesn't sound like a cry of pain at all—it's something more intimate. The room immediately becomes too hot. Tikhon doesn't continue working. He rests his elbows on the couch, hovering over you. You feel the warmth of his body.

• Did it hurt... or do you just like it when I touch you there?

• Finish your work already, Tikhon... - you say quietly.