They found a quieter spot in Leon's room, away from the chaos of the party. The music and laughter were muffled by the walls, leaving just the two of them. Ace set up her machine, trying to keep her hands steady even though her heart was thumping loud enough that she was sure Max could hear it.
Max sat on the bed, her posture relaxed, but her eyes tracked Ace's every move with that lazy, unreadable expression Ace had yet to figure out.
"You do this a lot?" Max asked, her head tilting slightly to the side.
"Yeah." Ace plugged in the machine, testing the buzz with a quick flick of her finger. "I started a few years ago. Practiced on fake skin. Myself. Friends."
Max's smirk was small but playful. "You tattooed yourself?"
Ace shrugged, feeling the familiar heat of embarrassment creep up her neck. "Didn't exactly have a shop willing to take me in."
Max's eyes flickered to the ink on Ace's arm, her gaze appraising. "They look good. You're crazy talented."
Ace's face burned at the compliment, and she forced herself to focus on the ink, pretending to pour it into the cup. "So… you trust me to tattoo you?"
Max didn't even hesitate, her voice steady and sure. "Yeah. I do."
Ace's throat went dry.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and then she started. The buzz of the machine filled the room, steady and constant, as the needle made contact with Max's skin. Ace worked carefully, every movement precise, every stroke deliberate. She was painting a piece of herself onto Max, and the thought sent a shiver down her spine.
Max broke the silence, her voice light but full of curiosity. "What are you giving me?"
Ace let a small smirk slip across her face. "You said surprise you."
Max chuckled, a sound that made Ace's stomach flip. "Dangerous choice."
Ace fought the urge to look up at her—too risky. Instead, she focused on the ink, on making sure every line was perfect, every detail just right.
Minutes passed in silence, the air between them thick with something unspoken, like something waiting to break, but neither of them willing to say it first.
Finally, Ace wiped away the last bit of ink and leaned back. "Done."
Max lifted her wrist, her fingers tracing the small but powerful design—a single flame, flickering but unbroken.
Ace swallowed, unsure why her heart was hammering so loudly. "It's… fire. Y'know, like strength. No matter what happens, it keeps burning."
Max was silent for a long moment, her fingers still tracing the tattoo. Then she smiled—slow and knowing, the kind of smile that set Ace's heart on fire in a way she didn't know was possible.
"I love it," Max murmured, her voice low and sincere.
Ace let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Yeah?"
Max's eyes met hers, soft and warm. "Yeah."
Before Ace could respond, Max leaned in just a little too close, her breath warm against Ace's skin.
"Thanks," Max whispered.
Ace's pulse skyrocketed.
Was this happening? Was Max flirting? Or was she imagining it?
Then, of course, the door burst open.
"OH SHIT—DID YOU GUYS KISS YET?"
Jayson's voice echoed through the room like a wrecking ball.
Kyle and Tim peeked in behind him, grinning like absolute menaces.
Max leaned back, laughing, and Ace groaned, shoving her tattoo machine into her bag. "You guys are the worst."
"Not our fault you're slow," Kyle teased, still grinning like a jackass.
Leon appeared behind them, leaning in the doorway with his usual smirk. "You good, Ace? You look like you're about to pass out."
Ace flipped him off, half-exasperated, half-hoping her face wasn't as red as it felt.
Max, meanwhile, just smiled at her wrist, her fingers lightly tracing the tattoo as if the whole world didn't matter except that moment. Then she caught Ace's eye again, amusement dancing in her gaze.
"This was fun," she said, her tone light but carrying something deeper. "We should do it again."
Ace had no idea if Max meant the tattoo or the heavy, electric tension that still lingered between them, but she was pretty sure she was screwed either way.