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More from badbreadpuns
To deal with a breakup, you get your nails done at a nail salon ran by monsters. Your nail stylist is a pretty, friendly lamia.
Tags: Post-breakup, the intimacy of letting a pretty lady do your nails, fluff
You miss your girlfriend.
The relationship ended not as an inferno, but as a small light struggling to stay ablaze. It burned longer than you expected, but it went out all the same. You’ve moped on the couch for a week, filling the void in your heart with junk food and TV. What’s something fun you could do?
You look down at your hands. The nails are long, unruly, like talons on a bird of prey. Turning to your phone, you look up nail salons, finding one downtown. They’re open, and they take walk-ins. Getting your nails done should cheer you up, right?
“Nails and Scales” hangs above the door in yellow letters, each S curling like a snake’s tail. Beside the door is another neon sign, a brown hand with long, red nails. Opening the door, you step inside. A handful of snake women turn their gaze towards you as the intoxicating scent of nail polish hits your nose.
“Welcome!” A chipper lamia sits behind the front desk, her auburn hair held up in a ponytail. The desk covers her lower half, but the flash of her fangs when she talks is enough of a giveaway. “What would you like today?”
“A manicure, please.”
“Of course.”
You walk up to the rainbow of polish that hangs on the wall, spending a few minutes looking through the reds, greens, and blues until you find a shade that sticks out.
“Right this way, miss.”
Her long green tail brushes against your leg as she passes you. Other lamiae gossip and laugh among themselves as you follow her to a table. The seat squeaks as you sit.
“Now let’s get a look at those nails.” You hold out your hand, and her grasp is swift, like a frog catching a fly. “What lovely fingers!” She leans in, close enough for you to look into her eyes. They’re emerald green, with a golden ring around the pupil. “So slender.”
Your face warms. It’s been a while since you’ve received a compliment, especially a sincere one. “Thank you.”
She leans back, letting your hands fall to the table. “We need to work on those nails. They look as sharp as mine!” Giggling at her own joke, she picks up the bottle of nail polish you set on the table. “I love this shade! Reminds me of a gemstone.”
It matches her eyes, doesn’t it?
Taking your hand, she picks up a pair of nail clippers. Snip, snip, snip.
“They look better already.”
She smiles at that, placing the clippers back on the table and picking up a filer, rubbing it against your nails. Its coarse surface shapes them until they are nice and round.
“This green would look stunning with gold.” Slithering to the wall with the nail polish, she picks a bottle from the shelf before coming back to the table. She holds it up to you. “See?”
It’s a warm, sparkly gold, which reminds you of sunlight. “It’s beautiful.”
“I think so too!” She shakes the bottle, placing it next to the other. “The new ‘in’ thing is to paint the ring finger a different color than the others. It will really make you stand out!”
You’re not sure if you want to stand out that much…
“Hold out your hand.”
You do as you’re told, placing your hand on the table. She screws off the top of the green nail polish, starting with your pinky finger. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. First time here?”
“Yes. I don’t get my nails done often, so I thought I’d check this place out.”
She passes the ring finger, coating your middle finger with green. “We don’t get a lot of human customers. It’s a pleasant change of pace.”
“Really?”
“Didn’t you see all the lamia when you came in?” She giggles, switching to your pointer. “We don’t do a lot of pedicures.”
As you two ramble on, the heartbeat in your ear grows louder. Your heart taps against your chest as if it were behind a door. Does it want out? Or does it want someone to come in?
“How does it look?”
You blink. All your nails except for the ring fingers are green. They sparkle like small emeralds under the lamp on the table.
“I love it!”
“We’re not finished yet.” She picks up the bottle of gold nail polish, unscrewing its top. “Two fingers to go.”
As she brushes a finger, the conversation starts up again. “Any special occasions coming up?”
“Not really. I wanted to get out of the house more than anything.”
She giggles, switching over to the other finger. “Can’t blame you. I hate staying home all day.”
She places the brush back in its bottle. “The heat lamps are near the front.”
You stand up, and she follows you as you walk over to the lamps. She turns on the light as you sit down and lie your hands down under it. The two of you chat a little as you wait for the timer to go off.
You look down at your nails. They sparkle under the sunlight that streams through the front window.
Following her to the front desk, you pay with your credit card, giving her a big tip. Out comes the receipt, but she’s quick to scribble something on the bottom before handing it to you. She smiles, but even with her fangs, she is welcoming. “Come back any time!”
As you walk out of the salon, you read the receipt. She wrote down her phone number.
Looks like you don’t have to wait until your next appointment to see her again.
Tags: Post-breakup, the intimacy of letting a pretty lady do your nails, fluff
────── ❀ ✿ ❀ ──────You miss your girlfriend.
The relationship ended not as an inferno, but as a small light struggling to stay ablaze. It burned longer than you expected, but it went out all the same. You’ve moped on the couch for a week, filling the void in your heart with junk food and TV. What’s something fun you could do?
You look down at your hands. The nails are long, unruly, like talons on a bird of prey. Turning to your phone, you look up nail salons, finding one downtown. They’re open, and they take walk-ins. Getting your nails done should cheer you up, right?
“Nails and Scales” hangs above the door in yellow letters, each S curling like a snake’s tail. Beside the door is another neon sign, a brown hand with long, red nails. Opening the door, you step inside. A handful of snake women turn their gaze towards you as the intoxicating scent of nail polish hits your nose.
“Welcome!” A chipper lamia sits behind the front desk, her auburn hair held up in a ponytail. The desk covers her lower half, but the flash of her fangs when she talks is enough of a giveaway. “What would you like today?”
“A manicure, please.”
“Of course.”
You walk up to the rainbow of polish that hangs on the wall, spending a few minutes looking through the reds, greens, and blues until you find a shade that sticks out.
“Right this way, miss.”
Her long green tail brushes against your leg as she passes you. Other lamiae gossip and laugh among themselves as you follow her to a table. The seat squeaks as you sit.
“Now let’s get a look at those nails.” You hold out your hand, and her grasp is swift, like a frog catching a fly. “What lovely fingers!” She leans in, close enough for you to look into her eyes. They’re emerald green, with a golden ring around the pupil. “So slender.”
Your face warms. It’s been a while since you’ve received a compliment, especially a sincere one. “Thank you.”
She leans back, letting your hands fall to the table. “We need to work on those nails. They look as sharp as mine!” Giggling at her own joke, she picks up the bottle of nail polish you set on the table. “I love this shade! Reminds me of a gemstone.”
It matches her eyes, doesn’t it?
Taking your hand, she picks up a pair of nail clippers. Snip, snip, snip.
“They look better already.”
She smiles at that, placing the clippers back on the table and picking up a filer, rubbing it against your nails. Its coarse surface shapes them until they are nice and round.
“This green would look stunning with gold.” Slithering to the wall with the nail polish, she picks a bottle from the shelf before coming back to the table. She holds it up to you. “See?”
It’s a warm, sparkly gold, which reminds you of sunlight. “It’s beautiful.”
“I think so too!” She shakes the bottle, placing it next to the other. “The new ‘in’ thing is to paint the ring finger a different color than the others. It will really make you stand out!”
You’re not sure if you want to stand out that much…
“Hold out your hand.”
You do as you’re told, placing your hand on the table. She screws off the top of the green nail polish, starting with your pinky finger. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. First time here?”
“Yes. I don’t get my nails done often, so I thought I’d check this place out.”
She passes the ring finger, coating your middle finger with green. “We don’t get a lot of human customers. It’s a pleasant change of pace.”
“Really?”
“Didn’t you see all the lamia when you came in?” She giggles, switching to your pointer. “We don’t do a lot of pedicures.”
As you two ramble on, the heartbeat in your ear grows louder. Your heart taps against your chest as if it were behind a door. Does it want out? Or does it want someone to come in?
“How does it look?”
You blink. All your nails except for the ring fingers are green. They sparkle like small emeralds under the lamp on the table.
“I love it!”
“We’re not finished yet.” She picks up the bottle of gold nail polish, unscrewing its top. “Two fingers to go.”
As she brushes a finger, the conversation starts up again. “Any special occasions coming up?”
“Not really. I wanted to get out of the house more than anything.”
She giggles, switching over to the other finger. “Can’t blame you. I hate staying home all day.”
She places the brush back in its bottle. “The heat lamps are near the front.”
You stand up, and she follows you as you walk over to the lamps. She turns on the light as you sit down and lie your hands down under it. The two of you chat a little as you wait for the timer to go off.
You look down at your nails. They sparkle under the sunlight that streams through the front window.
Following her to the front desk, you pay with your credit card, giving her a big tip. Out comes the receipt, but she’s quick to scribble something on the bottom before handing it to you. She smiles, but even with her fangs, she is welcoming. “Come back any time!”
As you walk out of the salon, you read the receipt. She wrote down her phone number.
Looks like you don’t have to wait until your next appointment to see her again.
────── ❀ ✿ ❀ ──────
Category Story / All
Species Lamia
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 17.2 kB
Comments