Chapter Thirty-Five #2
“I love you. I love how talented you are, and I’m proud of those talents. Why wouldn’t I want to wear ink you put on my skin?”
“I haven’t practiced anything! I can’t even remember what to do.”
“Yes. Yes, you can. You’re fighting it because you were being conditioned into believing you couldn’t. I know you can. Please. Just a little, even. Just add a little of the ink, and then I’ll be able to look at it and know you were a part of its creation.”
Has-Been was back and leaned closer, pointing to a part of the Phoenix that wasn’t finished yet. An area that needed to be filled, with red and orange.
“Why not fill this section? It’ll get you inking without fear, and he’ll be able to rub one out later looking at the part you did, and only that part, right, you kinky fucker?”
Oh. I ignored them as they chuckled and bantered with each other, eyeing the beautiful work Has-Been had done, the Phoenix logo all mapped out, with the old lady part beneath it, and my name in cursive letters.
Wow. The permanence resonated with me, making me feel warm inside at seeing it on his body.
His body was being branded with my name in such a visible way, something he could show off, something he’d be able to look at, to see me there with him.
Of course it was only one of many tattoos featuring my name, but this was the most meaningful, because it was the one being added because I was here instead of missing from his life.
He wanted my hand involved somehow, and it made sense. I could feel what he was reaching for. Confirmation of our connection, an almost circular journey, from friendship to love, and encompassing both for eternity. Maybe that’s why I said what I said next.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
My fingers were trembling as Has-Been guided me into his seat, and passed a fresh pair of gloves to me.
“Remember to brace your hand against his skin, so you’ve got a firm foundation to balance against. That’s it, move a little and feel how your hand moves with it.
” It was coming back. The familiarity of holding a tattoo gun was like an old warmth settling into me as I moved it around above his skin, the side of my hand pressed against him as I let it become a part of me.
“I can do this,” I breathed, a shiver of exhilaration flushing through me with the words. Henley was smiling proudly, tucking his hands behind his head as he waited for me to begin.
“Okay, switch it on and feel the vibration in your hand before you touch his skin. Remember how that feels too.”
Has-Been was a patient teacher, his quiet voice guiding me as I lowered the needle to Henley’s chest, my other hand flat on his skin to keep my canvas straight.
With steady motions, I applied the red colour to the portion of the Phoenix wing, stopping now and then to check that it mirrored the other side. Almost immediately, it felt like I’d never been away from doing this. It was all flooding back to me.
“See? You’re doing great. Let’s switch to the orange now, so we can blend the area.”
Henley reached out to cup my cheek as Has-Been took over to change the colours for me.
“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You’re doing a beautiful job.”
“It’s just a bit of colouring in,” I whispered, feeling embarrassed at receiving some kind of accolade for something a child could do.
“On skin. Permanently on skin,” he pointed out, “my skin. Mine forever.”
“Okay, calm down, big fella. You get a boner while she’s working, and I’m out.”
I tuned out their banter again as I returned to the task at hand, filling the colour, blending the tones, and bringing the Phoenix to life on his chest.
When I’d finished, I handed the kit back to Has-Been, my face aching from smiling as I worked, because this was what I’d been missing.
Sure, I was only touching up the colour within an image already drawn for me, but that part was irrelevant.
I was doing what I’d worked so hard to learn and perfect.
Something I now realised I was still capable of, something I’d doubted for so long, but no longer wanted to do without.
“Can I carry on now?” Rocket asked as he sat back down beside my chair, pulling fresh gloves on.
I leaned over to kiss Henley, sighing into it as he slid his fingers into my hair and deepened the kiss, both of us ignoring grumbles and banter around us.
This moment was bigger than they probably realised, because it wasn’t just about us becoming us.
It was about me becoming me again too. Henley seemed to understand that.
He seemed to realise I needed to be pushed over that ledge, to be put into that situation so that I’d give it a go, and even though I knew he’d never have kept pushing if I’d been seriously saying no to it, I knew now that I’d been protesting so weakly that he knew he could keep urging me.
“Thank you,” I said to him, pulling back to smile at Has-Been next, “and thank you.”
He shrugged, feigning indifference, although I knew he too saw the significance of the moment.
“My hand needed a rest. You did me a favour.”
He winked as I rolled my eyes at him, because we both knew it was about so much more than that. I sat back down, and Rocket smoothed his hand over the skin he was tattooing on my side, lowering his voice just for me.
“You did good. It’s hard to get back to the things you thought you’d lost, but you did us all proud there.”