Tristian's POV
I wiped down my station one last time before throwing the wet
paper towel in the trash. The door opened, and I didn't bother to see
who walked in.
" Tristian! He wants a touchup on the tattoo you gave him a while
ago. " I sighed as I grabbed my leather gloves and my tools. The man,
who I don't care to remember the name of, took a seat on the chair
and I sat on the smaller one.