Page 87 of Pretty Thing

If you can call a structure quaint, then that is exactly what it is. I look at Felix in confusion.

“Where are we?”

Felix smiles wide and gets out without an explanation. Before I can even open my door, he’s there helping me like a gentleman. Where did this guy come from? The world really needs more of him.

Taking my hand, Felix puts it through the crook of his arm and walks us to the corner. My steps falter when we round the building. There, in bright, glowing red Devil’s Pulpit Tattoo Studio.

“Oh my god…Felix, is this your place?”

I look up at him in shock. It’s like something you see in a magazine for a store in London City where new and old collide.

“It is.” He points up to the top floor. “And that’s my loft. I like looking out toward downtown and seeing everything.”

“It’s stunning.”

“I thought it was time you saw the version of me before the crash. The parts of me that I’ve never let anyone else see. Not just my business or where I sleep, but where I dream, think, and live. I want you to know every part of me.”

Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I’ve spent too many days and nights crying. They don’t belong in this moment and space between us.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to Matt.”

I remember him mentioning that name, and happily go with the flow.

Everything hits me all at once. The bright colors mixed with black and grey. The leather chairs and couch, and the black-and-white framed photos on the wall. I know right away it has to be Felix who took them. I recognize most of the locations from around town. I’ve stepped into a whole other world. One that is not filled with sadness or marred by emotional damage.

A hot guy who looks to be the same age as Felix stands up from the reception desk with a wide smile. He has a warm and welcoming personality that makes me feel at ease.

“Hey there…you must be the infamous Eden,” he says, holding out his hand.

Matt has tawny eyes, black hair, and piercings in his eyebrow, lip, and ears. Tattoos run up both arms and disappear under his black t-shirt.

“I am. You must be Matt. It’s nice to meet you.”

We shake hands, and then Matt punches Felix in the arm.

“Did this guy tell you that he worships me?”

I chuckle as Felix rolls his eyes.

“Spare me. It’s more like the other way around,” Felix grumbles.

“Shut up, man. I’m trying to look lit.”

“You’re failing,” Felix drawls, making me laugh.

I’ve never seen this side of Felix. Light, funny, and teasing.

“Fine…whatever. I guess it’s the other way around,” Matt grumbles.

“No, he didn’t mention anything. Why is that?”

“He basically saved my life, and he’s been stuck with me ever since. He taught me everything I know about tattooing and is the closest person I have to family.”

“Matt exaggerates. We had a spare room, and it wasn’t a huge inconvenience. He worked his ass off part-time to help pay bills. And he’s an incredible artist all on his own. He didn’t need me.”

“Just take the fucking compliment, man,” Matt says, wrapping his arm around Felix’s shoulders and giving him a shake. “This guy would never be in the spotlight and just stay locked up in his loft if I didn’t force him to socialize now and then.”

They are total opposites, but I can see why they work. Like two halves to the same whole.