28. Sienna
twenty-eight
Sienna
The look that Jace Eros Heart sends my way can be described as three things.
Confused as hell
Mortified as fuck
Acceptance
Somewhere in the mix of his confusion and mortification, Jace agreed to get a tattoo. I know that he has a few on his legs and one on his rib cage, but I didn’t think he’d actually agree to get a tattoo today. Hell, I didn’t agree to get one. Which brings me to my next issue.
The sound of a buzzing asshole in the shape of a tattoo needle sends blood rushing to my ears as Bertha, the woman who so graciously checked us in for our reservation that I had no idea about, tests out her equipment.
Jace’s only two stipulations for getting a tattoo of his own was that I’d gotten one, too—that’s fine, it's on my list anyways. But the other was that I get something that he designed without seeing it beforehand.
“Do you trust me?”
“As far as I can throw you.”
I groan at the memory of his words from earlier, wishing I’d paid attention to the way he’d been so giddy and excited about what we're going to do today.
The first red flag should’ve been the chocolate chip pancakes! He was buttering me up, I just know it .
“Ready, doll? This shouldn’t hurt at all.” Bertha’s thick voice is full of lightness as her cold, gloved fingers prep the area just above my right ankle to be assaulted by a tattoo gun.
“As ready as I’ll ever— Ouch , that hurts, Bertha! Are you trying to chisel into my bone?” I wince, looking down at the smiling woman as she adjusts her seat.
“Hon’, I only pressed down a smidge on your ankle…there’s no ink on you.”
Oh…
So maybe getting tattoos and riding on the back of motorcycles aren’t for me. Big whoop. I can always– OH MY!
The feeling of a rapid drilling in my ankle sends me spiraling. My eyes bulge out of their sockets as I peer down at the pure mutilation occurring towards my beautifully soft and empty skin.
Scratch what I said earlier …Getting tattoos and riding on the back of motorcycles are DEFINITELY not for me.
By the time Bertha is done nailing into my skin, I want a batch of chocolate chip cookies—all to myself, obviously—and a nice long everything shower.
As agreed with Jace, I’m not allowed to see either of our tattoos until we make it back to the loft. When Jace joins me back in the lobby, his entire neck and cheeks are red, but his bicep is covered by a plastic wrap. Mortification and confusion run through my bones as I eye him suspiciously.
“What did you do…”
“Let me see! Let me see! Let me see!”
“Jeez, girl, I’m starting to think you want to see more than the tattoo.” Jace chuckles as I yank on his arm, clearly amused by my antics as we enter the loft .
I groan as I tug on him again and to my displeasure, he doesn’t react to the tugging. Instead, he tilts his head at me as if to say are you done? and no , I’m not done.
“Let me see it! Why were your neck and cheeks red? What did you do? Is it a dick? Did you get a dick on your neck? How would I explain that to anyone—Oh my goodness, your mom ! How would I tell her that her son got a phallus on his neck instead of only in his pants!?” My exclamations are drowned out by the loud cackling laugh of the man beside me.
Jace kisses my forehead, his body vibrating with humor as I frown, folding my arms over my chest.
“Come here,” he says stalking towards the couches in the living room, his voice a mixture between a command and soft plea.
I comply, following behind him with narrowed eyes as he takes a seat on the couch.
He looks between the seat next to him and me, his fingers twiddling with one another nervously as he bites his lip. Is he…is Jace Heart nervous?
Anxiety flares in my gut as I take a cautious seat next to him, his usual comforting scent of vanilla and leather leave a feeling of dread in my stomach as I turn to stare at the man beside me.
Without speaking, Jace softly grasps my ankle where the tattoo he’d designed is covered.
I lean forward, expecting the worst as he draws out the reveal of the tattoo, taking his sweet precious time to rip off the (literal) Band-Aid.
“Oh for Pete’s sake!” I cry out, reaching out to rip the dang thing off only to be popped quickly by his cold fingers.
Did I just get popped by a grown man?
I stare at him, my jaw dropped as he ignores me.
“You were going to ruin the surprise,” he chides, slowly pulling back the wrap once again.
I’m sorry but…Did this man just pop me?
I mean…truly popped. Like a four-year-old getting popped by their nanny in the mouth for saying “ shut the fuck up ” in Turkish after hearing it on a soap opera, popped .
That may or may not have happened to me…Moving on.
My brain is still reeling from the fact that Jace popped me like a bad ass kid that I don’t notice his silence or the cold air hitting my skin.
“This is beautiful…” he murmurs, examining my ankle closely, catching my attention.
I lean forward, the eagerness and excitement from earlier now back in full throttle as I take in the small, dainty tattoo he’d insisted be put on my skin.
My breath catches in my throat as I take in the intricate swirls of black ink embedded in my skin permanently.
He’d drawn a small and intricate key, the bow of the key a detailed swirl of lines curving into a heart.
The key reminds me of something I’ve seen before with its vintage and old-timey art style.
I’m transfixed by the tattoo, so much so that when I look from it, I’m startled slightly to find Jace already looking at me.
His eyes are a wild range of emotions, drawing me in.
“Do you like it?” he asks softly, his thumb caressing the skin under my leg as I nod.
I love it.
Jace grins, holding his arm out expectantly.
“Rip it off of me,” he quips, and I have to blink a few times to understand that he means the tattoo wrap and not his clothes.
Slowly and with the ease of a ballerina on stage, I undo the wrapping and my body reacts before I can at the sight before me.
A stopwatch, old and vintage in the exact same art style as the key, sits at tilt with its chain drifting away.
I tilt my head, leaning in closer, taking in the complex detailing and shading of the stopwatch, down the little heart in the center of it.
“A key…and a stopwatch,” I whisper aloud, trying to paint the full picture, but I can’t. Curiosity rings through my mind as my eyes flicker from the key on my ankle to the stopwatch on his inner bicep.
And then it hits me.
“Everything’s got a moral, if only you could find it. ”
Alice in Wonderland . His favorite tale, one of curiosity and growth. A thought transports me back to my nine-year-old self, the day that started it all between us.
The day that I met Jace Heart.
Twelve years ago
I huff dramatically crossing my arms over my chest. This isn’t fair! I should be able to go with Mommy and Daddy on their work tour. Why do I have to stay with Uncle Clef all summer?
“Now I know you’re not pouting, Sola girl,” Uncle Clef admonishes, his expression playful as I frown, shaking my head furiously. The long and thick twists in my hair swing, hitting my face with the large, round, purple and white balls that Nanny Roshelle put in my hair before I was brought here.
“No…I’m not pouting,” I say sighing as he pats my head lovingly before grabbing my bags from the trunk of his car.
“Good, now run inside. Your cousin and her friends should be inside with Ryan.”
At the mention of my cousin Cleo and her new brother Ryan, my ears perk up. I haven’t seen Cleo since last year when Uncle Clef said that I could sleep over at his house for a playdate.
I march up the front porch of my uncle's house, still upset because my mommy and daddy left without me.
I mean, I just don't get it. It’s summertime and I don’t have any school or dance classes…Why can’t I go with Mommy and Daddy ?
My shoulders slump as my eyes fall to my feet. Rounding up the stairs to Cleo’s bedroom, I stop when a voice calls out to me, “Everything’s got a moral, if only you could find it.”
I stop in my tracks at the unfamiliar sound and turn to find a boy. I’ve never seen him before. I would’ve remembered if I had because I have great memory. I know I do, my dance teacher says it all the time. So that’s how I know that this boy in particular, is not someone I’ve met before.
He has hair the color of gold, vibrant like the sun, and rosy red cheeks like they were painted with a cherry, but what catches my attention are his eyes. Light green and vibrant all the same, his eyes are interesting. They remind me of a fairy meadow, light and dazzling.
“Who—” I try to say, but the eager golden skinned boy cuts me off.
“You’re sad, why are you sad? I heard you talk about your mommy, are you okay?” he asks, taking a step closer to me on the stairs.
I tilt my head as he grins at me. The grin is bright and I giggle as I notice the two missing front teeth in his mouth, but then his words come back to me.
Defensively, I turn away from the boy.
“I’m not sad. I don’t get sad, that’s not how big girls handle their problems,” I huff, folding my arms over my chest.
The boy’s grin widens as he rolls his eyes like we’re joking with one another, I raise an eyebrow at him.
Who is this kid, anyways?
“Well obviously, silly, why would parents name you ‘Sad’? That’s an odd name…”
“They didn’t.” I furrow my brows, leaning closer to him as he raises his brows.
“So then what do I call you, Sad?” he asks as if he were genuinely confused, tilting his head like the puppies I’d seen on TV.
“Sienna, you can call me Sienna.”
The boy's grin returns as he holds an abrupt hand out for me to shake. “And I’m Jace. ”
Loud laughter and the thundering sound of footsteps catches my ear as Jace’s eyes brighten. “Cleo, Georgia, and Ryan are upstairs. Would you like to play with us, Sad Sienna?”
“I am not sad,” I grumble, seriously becoming annoyed by this smiling, golden boy.
“No, but you don’t seem happy, either. I’ll tell them we’ll watch a movie and then all your sadness will be gone, what’d you think?”
A movie? Together? It’s been so long since anyone has wanted to watch a movie with me. I think the last time may have been last year when I spent the weekend with Cleo.
“Sure.” I shrug, trying to play it off cool, but inside I’m ecstatic!
Someone wants to watch a movie with me! Does that mean that we’re friends now?
“Good. We’ll watch Alice in Wonderland.”
When the memory subsides and my eyes land back on Jace, his eyes tell a mixture of stories and emotions beneath their irises.
The key that Alice used to open the door to Wonderland and the White Rabbit’s stopwatch. Jace tattooed the first ever memory we shared with one another on our skin.
Emotion builds in my throat as I go to speak, but he beats me to it.
“What do you think?” he questions softly, eyes glimmering as I draw in a breath.
“That you may just be a little bit of a sweet guy.” I chuckle jokingly. He dramatically clutches his chest as if he’d been wearing pearls.
“A little?”
I roll my eyes at him, twisting my body to fully face him. In the time since we started this whole list together, Jace has proven time and time again that he is a caring person who just wants the best for me.
“You’re an amazing guy, Jace…Don’t ever forget that.”