I pushed against the wooden door, jade green paint flaking off into my hand, and let the luscious scent of coffee and the warmth of the shop envelop me. The door clicked shut behind me, swiftly followed by a mellifluous bell chiming above my head, as I moved further into the alcove of the entrance and pulled out my phone to check the time; 11:51. I sighed, no matter how hard I tried or how early I left, I always had a way of being late; my ability to be late was second to none, my own lame superpower – sure, Doctor Strange gets to be a super cool, super badass sorcerer and Thor gets to be the freakin' God of Thunder, but me? I get to be super late (which, let's face it, is super lame). Yay. But alas, I digress.

I looked up from my phone, sliding it into my back pocket, and raked a hand through my hair – accidentally pulling out the bun in the process – as I began to scan the coffee shop for signs of my best friend. As the bun fell, dark hair tumbled down, covering my face and leaving a small partition in between the locks that somehow managed to leave a perfect window that directed me straight to the girl over by the back window and huddled up next to the radiator.

She had long, straight black hair, tied back into a low ponytail, that was met half way down by a shade of crimson red that slowly ombréd its way into a vibrant persimmon orange. The woman had warm mahogany eyes, flecked with gold, which always seemed to be smiling and radiating warmth at those she looked upon. She had an olive complexion that always appeared sun kissed, even in the depths of winter, and was a stark contrast to my own pale skin. The girl was dressed simply in a plain black dress, the skater skirt spread out over her knees as she leaned lethargically on the table, accented only by a dip in the neckline that was held together by black fabric in a somehow elegant crisscross. Tara.

Despite all the charms that my best friend was undoubtedly blessed with, her quick wit, her outstanding creativity and remarkable intelligence, she was as impatient as a child waiting for the beginning of their summer holidays and was always keen to tell you how displeased she was if you were late (you meaning me because, I hate to admit it but, nobody is as bad as time keeping as me. I like to blame it on the Hence blood but Tara wasn't so fond of that excuse). She turned away from the window to glance at the door and her eyes locked on me; as our eyes met, annoyance flooded her face and she visibly sighed, her body sagging, as she raised her wrist and tapped her watch.

"So remind me again why it is you're late?" Tara asked, leaning back into the plush seat.

"I'm not that late, T," I sighed, "In fact, this is pretty good for me!"

"Mm, I suppose but I really wish that weren't true."

I laughed at this and she scowled at me before dissolving into her own giggles. There was a lot of that in our friendship; T would get mad at me for doing something stupid (which in my defence, rarely seemed stupid at the time but there was always some factor I was missing in my calculations and that was usually Tara) but she'd forgive me the second I started laughing. Our friendship was easy, natural; we always had each other's backs to the point where we were practically sisters... sisters... sisters.

Once we had finished our laughing fit, I wrapped my fingers around the latte that Tara had ordered for me and watched as her slender fingers did the same around her long macchiato. I turned to watch the rain out the window, cosying myself up against the radiator and nursing my coffee absentmindedly, as Tara sipped on her drink. Out of the corner of my I saw her grimace as she swallowed and slowly lower the cup back down to the little wooden table stationed between us.

"How is it?" I smirked; eyeing the barely touched cup and watching the steam rise up out of it in a somewhat alluring and enchanting fashion.

"A little bitt-" she began but she was cut off by the chime of the bell. We both turned to look at who had entered, curious as to whether Alfie had arrived. A tall man stood in the entrance way, his dark hair soaked from the rain and his black coat appeared damp and heavy on him, surveying the scene before him in a calm manner until the bell chimed again and Alfie walked in through the door, colliding with the man who appeared disgruntled before walking off towards the bar. I watched the scene unfold but became distracted by a slight burning pain in my ankle right where my new tattoo was. I let out a low hiss, and pulled my legs away from the radiator but the pain failed to subside completely and I was left with a bothersome tingle that irritated the reddened skin. My movement must have caught Alfie's attention as his gaze drifted over to Tara and me, his green eyes lighting up, and he hurriedly walked over, shaking small drops of rain out of his shaggy blonde hair as he moved.

"Sorry I'm late," he whispered to T before turning his attention to me, "but look who's here! I'm surprised, honestly Ingrid, I wasn't expecting you to be here before me."

I smirked triumphantly at Tara who shook her head in playfully disapproving manner.

"Don't look so smug, Ingrid – I suggested a later time for him to arrive, I knew you'd be late," Tara grinned.

"Ah but you overestimated how late I would be and so really, I have every right to be smug and every right to command you to purchase either A) our drinks next time we go out or B) my coffee for the next month," I retorted.

We all dissolved back into giggles and I made a mental note to hold Tara to that rule in the near future, how near however, I was not yet decided, and debated whether I wanted my decree to benefit Alfie (option A) or just me (option B). I was more inclined to go with option B.

"Anyways, what was troubling you so much that you had to call us out here so early, Ingrid, especially using a code red," Tara inquired, as she and Alfie turned to me, "you've barely touched your drink which is so unlike you."

"Ohmygod! Are you pregnant? Did you have a one night stand? Is that why you're not drinking your coffee?! Ohmygod! Can I be the God Father? Is Tara going to be the God Mother? Do you know who the father is? Ohmygod is it tha- ow!" Alfie gushed before being cut off as I leant over the table to flick his forehead.

"No, you dork. I'm not pregnant. Don't you think my mother would have already put my 6ft under by now if I was? Well... she may do that anyways..." I trailed off.

Tara picked up her coffee cup in one hand and leant over the table to rest her other on my forearm, she cocked her head to one side and raised one eyebrow at me.

"Earlier this morning, I was... I was in the shower and I... I noticed a new tattoo. I think I got it last night but I can't remember anything that happened after we left the club. Can either of you guys? That's why I asked you here."

"Ah shit, I'm sorry Ingrid but I can't remember jack after the club either. It'll be fine though, you can just get it removed or something, right? Can we see it?" Alfie asked.

I brought my tattooed leg up over the over and pulled my jeans up slightly so they could see it. They sat studying the design for a few minutes and Alfie let out a low whistle before leaning back and chuckling at my misfortune.

"Well, at least it's pretty," Tara commented, "but I'm in the same boat as you two, I can't really remember much from last night. Does it hurt?"

"Mhm, a little. But maybe you guys got one too?" I suggested hopefully.

Alfie continued to laugh, "Sorry Ingrid but we're not all as dumb as you are, even when we're drunk," I leaned over and flicked his forehead again, "ow! What was that one for?!"

We stayed in the coffee shop for a couple of hours, trying to piece together the events of the night before but our minds went blank in roughly the same place and none of us were able to recall where on earth I had got the tattoo and why the fuck I had. Eventually though, our hangovers got the best of us and with our heads beginning to pound once again, we departed and returned to our homes.

When I got home, my head continued to throb but the tingling in my ankle had faded completely at some point during the walk home. I flung myself down onto the worn, brown leather sofa and pulled a soft blanket off of the floor and over myself as I let myself relax. At some point, I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes again the clock was chiming for 4pm. I picked up my phone from the floor, onto which it had slid at some point during my nap, and was surprised to see I had two new messages from Alfie and Tara which both that startlingly similar things.

Alfie: I have one too... (followed by a link to 'We're all in this together' which made me chuckle).

Tara: Square that code red because I have a tattoo too... what the hell did we do last night?

And there we have it, folks! Chapter Two of Unexpectedly Inked. 

How are y'all feeling about it (hopefully you're enjoying it)? How would you feel if you woke up in their shoes? Let me know!

Thank you for reading this chapter - please vote, comment and maybe even share it with your friends if you like it enough.

I'll see you all soon for Chapter Three!

- IgnisAndFortuna