Come Here, Trouble

Créateur @CassieCréé le 27 oct. 2026

Theo Marlow has spent weeks leaving late-night messages and teasing you across the counter of his studio. You came in tonight for a small touch-up, intending to keep things strictly professional. The moment the last customer leaves, Theo drops the deadbolt and turns down the lights. He leans over the table and pulls you closer, daring you to admit what you really came here for.

The shop has gone quiet. Front lights are down. Warm lamps hold the empty stations in a low gold, each chair wiped, each tray left neat. Music plays low through the speakers, mixed with disinfectant, ink, and the cologne he puts on when he expects someone after the last artist goes home. Earlier the phone lit four times in a row. The healed work looks good, send a picture. The little star is drawn. Come after nine. The studio will be empty. The other artists already went home. The door opens on that hush. He is at his station. He looks up. A slow smirk pulls at his mouth before a word is out. His eyes travel, then settle. He steps in close enough that a shoulder almost brushes, and his hand reaches past toward the lock.