Inked [1x1]

Otto let his cutlery fall loudly to the plate. "That was pretty good, all things considered," he chuckled. The smile on his face melted away, and he shook his head with a sigh. "Don't worry about it. You were just...scared."
 
Laila sighed, heavily. "I know, but that's also no excuse. I probably could have handled it better instead of just... disappearing. I panicked, and I'm sorry."

She still wasn't looking at him, instead opting to play more with her napkin. The patterns were super fascinating. "I... well, that is to say..." She stopped, trying to find the proper phrasing.

"If you..." Ugh why was this so hard.

"I'd like to try again, continuing seeing each other, that is. If you'd like. I mean, I'd understand if you... couldn't, but now that you know..." She trailed off again, feeling miserable.

Her chest was tight with anxiety and she felt like she might throw up any second and it wasn't from the overcooked asparagus.
 
Otto watched Laila carefully, his breathing shallow. He had a feeling that he knew what she was going to ask. Still, he waited, not rushing her or even letting it on that his own anxiety was building.

He couldn't help but laugh just little when she finally got the sentence out. He extended a hand across the table, smiling at Laila. "I'd...I'd really like that."
 
She let out a very large breath and turned to wrap her arms around him in a hug. She didn't feel that she deserved a second chance, but she was grateful for it all the same.

"Thank you," She murmured, quietly, into his ear.
 
Otto jumped a little, freezing. After a moment of awkward stillness, he sighed and returned the hug. He chuckled. "It's no problem," he said softly.
 
Otto hung around a bit longer that evening and Laila felt... at peace with her life in that moment and she was unable to recall the last time she'd felt this way. Having kept this secret for so long and to finally share it at her choice. It made her incredibly happy.

Life resumed for the young couple after that night, except in Laila's mind everything was a bit better now that he knew her secret. She still had to deal with the black mail situation, but that was life for her.

Until one day Erik showed up at Otto's work.
 
It was a relatively busy day at the inker's, so Otto was fairly attentive up at the front. He recognised the bastard as soon as he walked in, and it took all of the strength in him to not go up to the guy and punch him right in his damn jaw. He considered forcing on his customer service smile, but this man - this beast - didn't deserve anything. "You got a consultation?" He asked in a mutter.
 
Eric smirked at the sight of the inker and waited until he had his attention. "I'd like to make one, with you, if you've got the time." He was too smug, too arrogant. He was here for a reason and it most certainly was not for a tattoo.
 
Otto's lips pressed together in a straight line. He wanted desperately to say no, but they had a policy that they couldn't say no if they had the time to give what was being asked. "Alright," he said in a sigh. He picked up his drawing pad and lead the way to the consultation room. If he actually wanted a tattoo, maybe Otto could fake him out. Give him something that marked him for what he was for all to see.
 
Eric followed Otto, smugly, and took the seat meant for the customer. He got straight to the point, "You and Laila seem pretty close, so I've been watching you for a few weeks. You stay at work late fairly often." He had most definitely not come for a tattoo.
 
Otto raised an eyebrow, concealing his inner panic. Shit. "Yeah, I work later shifts because they pay better," he spat. Damn it. Calm down, act like this is normal. He opened up his notepad. "What's the event your mark's in memory of?" He asked, clicking his mechanical pencil.
 
Eric leaned forward, "I don't know, I've seen some of the clients that you have walking in here. I'm also betting you know Laila's little secret." He hummed a little, completely relaxed and feeling completely in control of the situation.

"I wonder what your employer would say if he knew what you did after hours. Wonder what the police would say if they knew what kind of company you kept."
 
Otto's eyes visibly widened, and he let the pad drop into his lap. "Get out," he growled. He was already done with this. He could just say that the guy was being abusive to him. Make up some bullshit about insults.
 
Eric didn't move. "So you'd like for them to know, then?" he raised a brow and shrugged one shoulder. "Or should I tell your girlfriend's secret, instead. I heard she's getting a book deal, but she won't agree to pay me more than what we were at before."

He laughed a little, "Maybe I should see what's got you so hooked to defend her. She wasn't that great from my memory, but things change."
 
"Leave her alone," Otto demanded. His knees were shaking and he was starting to sweat. "I can pay you. Just leave her alone. She's not done anything to you."
 
Narrowing his eyes, "She exists," he spat. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Now, let's talk payment. Can you really make it worth my while to leave her alone?"
 
“Yes. If you just promise to leave her alone,” Otto said, voice just threatening to crack. He’d give all his money away if it meant he could really get rid of this motherfucker. But he knew he couldn’t. People like him didn’t let go of their prizes.
 
"She's paying me five hundred a month to keep her secret." Eric admitted, still so very smug. "What's your offer?"
 
Otto stared at the table as he worked it all out. He could do more than that. Do some extra marks, buy a little less when it came to his groceries. “Five fifty,” he said before he could change his mind.
 
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