The worldwind that entered the shop drowned out all conversation. Or at least stifled it, rain and wind to subdue. A ghost of a smile touched Beto's lips.
Honest.
It was rather refreshing, for all its rarity. Or rather, because of it. The tattoo artist's comments quirked his lips up more, both for the clear tease as well as the clear disinterest.
Not that Beto was repulsed. But neither was he enticed. Beauty as an aesthetic was something he perceived with his mind. The elegance of a logical argument, the deft manipulation of law, the poetic flow of a proof. There was a profound sense of beauty to be found in its practice.
But to physically possess it was unnecessary. Or to appreciate it as such.
The man- Jerry- played along, purposefully oogling. Well, she had to expect to be looked at, presenting herself in that manner. She had counted on it.
And Beto was bored.
The artist finished, wiping off the freshly worked on skin with towels, applying salve and then spraying on the nuskin protection. The man looked saddened to leave now that a show had arrived.
"I'm Beto." The smile he gave her was on the warmer side- but not too warm. He looked over her work. "Impressive."
To the artist. "The gentlemen was ahead of me. But when he is done, I would like some work done." He'd adopted an easy manner, glancing at her and winking. "A kitten on my shoulder."
Honest.
It was rather refreshing, for all its rarity. Or rather, because of it. The tattoo artist's comments quirked his lips up more, both for the clear tease as well as the clear disinterest.
Not that Beto was repulsed. But neither was he enticed. Beauty as an aesthetic was something he perceived with his mind. The elegance of a logical argument, the deft manipulation of law, the poetic flow of a proof. There was a profound sense of beauty to be found in its practice.
But to physically possess it was unnecessary. Or to appreciate it as such.
The man- Jerry- played along, purposefully oogling. Well, she had to expect to be looked at, presenting herself in that manner. She had counted on it.
And Beto was bored.
The artist finished, wiping off the freshly worked on skin with towels, applying salve and then spraying on the nuskin protection. The man looked saddened to leave now that a show had arrived.
"I'm Beto." The smile he gave her was on the warmer side- but not too warm. He looked over her work. "Impressive."
To the artist. "The gentlemen was ahead of me. But when he is done, I would like some work done." He'd adopted an easy manner, glancing at her and winking. "A kitten on my shoulder."