Chapter 13 #2
“Yes, I’ll come back up and help you pick out an outfit, now go, you take forever,” He urges me away, and I smile, liking that he already knew what I was about to say to him.
I’m jumping into a pair of loose fitting jean shorts when I hear a knock on my door again.
I run to the door in shorts, and a bralette, my hair damp and hanging down my back.
I stand on my tiptoes to look into the peephole, only to see Bellamy, leaning against the wall outside of my door.
He should be proud I’m locking my door now.
Even though the only reason I left it open in the first place was because I knew he’d be coming over, but he’s anal about it even with that excuse.
I open the door, and he’s wearing black shorts, and what looks like a vintage football t-shirt.
The Packers are on his tee. One of the teams he mentioned that he loved.
He looks casual but fit. He looks good as always.
He looks me up and down taking in my lack of shirt and smirks to himself, walking past me and into my bedroom as I close the front door.
“Okay I just need you to pick a color,” I tell him, running into my bedroom after him. “Yellow or green?” I ask him.
“Yellow, easy,” He gives me the answer like it’s second nature, and he’s already thrown himself across my bed.
I go back into my closet and take the yellow cropped t-shirt off of the hanger. I walk back out and pull it over my head, adjusting myself as I look in the floor length mirror.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to be tattooing on my body?” Bell’s voice echoes behind me as I look at myself, I can see him looking at me through the mirror too.
I nod instinctively not wanting to cause panic. I have no fucking clue what I’m going to tattoo on him, literally not a single idea has crossed my mind. But it’s not a full lie. I have been thinking about it.
“What about you? Do you know what my first tattoo is going to be?” I ask him.
“I do. I thought of it before you had even told me you were okay with the idea…” He tells me, and now I feel even more pressure.
He’s been planning this, thinking about it, and I’m about to have to pull something out of my ass.
“Nothing inappropriate. If I open my eyes to a penis tattooed on my body, I’ll have gained one and you will be losing one,” I warn him.
“I would never do that to you. Griff, maybe... But not to you,” He winks at me as I reach down to the ground to grab my Dr. Martens.
I slide them over my feet, my socks peeking out over the top of them. I tie my shoes, and Bellamy is practically dragging me out of the door, and downstairs to his car.
He keeps his large hand spread over my thigh the entire drive, drawing eager circles over my skin showing me that he might be a bit more anxious than he’s letting on.
I think long and hard about what tattoo I want to give Bell.
By long and hard I mean as long as it takes us to be parked in front of the tattoo shop he’s chosen.
It’s the middle of the week, and we’re a bit outside of the city so when we walk inside there’s hardly anyone in the shop.
I hear the light hum of a tattoo gun and the sound of music.
Bellamy takes my hand in his like it’s instinct, and he leads me forward, and up to a large glass counter.
Inside are piercings, and jewelry. I look around at the walls, hoping for a very last minute bit of inspiration, something that sparks my interest.
“Are you sure about this?” My eyes continue to scan everything surrounding us.
“One hundred and ten percent sure. I don’t care what you choose, as long as it’s not inappropriate. You can put it anywhere on my body… With very very few limits.”
I have an idea but no image of it in my head.
My eyes catch on a simple drawing, it’s classic style, of course, with no color.
It would match his other tattoo well, and it fits him, and it fits what I was picturing in my mind.
My mind reels at the significance of it to me, and what it would mean to him.
It makes me smile, the thought of how cheesy it would be but also perfect.
He squeezes my hand, and I look down, my eyes looking at his hand that completely covers mine.
“Okay, never mind, I don’t have doubts anymore,” I confirm.
“Are you sure?”
I nod eagerly.
“What can I help you with?” A man asks, approaching us on the other side of the counter.
“So she’s picking out a tattoo for me, and I don't know what it is... And I’m doing the same for her.”
The man raises his eyebrows, looking completely unsure of the two of us.
“Did you lose a bet?” The man is burly and large, and covered in tattoos. I stifle a laugh.
“That’s what it feels like doesn’t it?” I joke.
Bellamy rolls his eyes. “She didn't and neither did I.”
I smile at how defensive he is. He’s an easygoing person, though he’s persistent, he’s normally relaxed.
I do watch and notice the small times, the little instances where he reaches for my hand, gets protective and turns into the scary boyfriend – not the easygoing one.
Fake, of course. The scary fake boyfriend.
Right now is one of those times, he’s very stuck on not wanting others to know what we have going on between us.
He likes it being between us, and our group of friends, and I do too.
Not that these tattoo artists truly care what Bellamy and I are.
“Alright, I don’t care. I’ll do hers. I’ll grab another artist for yours. You said this is some kind of secret? She can’t know, and you can’t know?” He asks Bellamy, and I watch as he nods.
“Exactly.”
I realize just how dumb this sounds now that we’re saying it out loud.
“It’s none of my business,” The artist speaks like he’s reminding himself as he walks away from the two of us and down a hall.
He comes back with another guy, and Bellamy and I separate, going with the other’s tattoo artist, explaining the pieces we have chosen for each other.
I point to the wall, pointing out the artwork I had seen and loved. I give him a size reference and tell him where to place it, my stomach filling with butterflies at the thought of my own tattoo, and the one Bellamy is going to walk out of here with.
“Are you two fine to get tattooed at the same time?” The first guy we spoke to asks.
I hesitate for a second, not scared, but a bit apprehensive. I’ve never been tattooed before. I know I’ll be fine, but there’s a bit of fear locked inside of my chest, buzzing there like a swarm of bees.
“Can we be in the same room?” Bellamy’s eyes are on me as he speaks, obviously noticing my apprehensive feelings.
“Whatever,” The guy speaks, and nods his head.
“You can’t look...” Bellamy warns me.
“Neither can you.”
The two artists get both stations set up, and sit us down. I turn my face away from the artist and notice Bellamy doing the same, looking directly at me. I smile and wave with my free hand. We’re close, but not close enough to touch.
“You ready?” The artist asks Bellamy.
“Go for it,” He tells the guy.
The tattoo gun buzzes, and I watch as the artist preps himself, and gets started. Bellamy doesn’t flinch at the touch of the tattoo gun on his skin even though the area is so sensitive.
“Nothing?” I ask.
“I thought my hand would be worse... Also, I should have known you’d choose a hand tattoo.”
I might punch him later for exposing me in front of two strangers. Let’s hope they don’t pick up what he just put down.
“It’s a cool place for a tattoo,” It starts to sink in that I might actually be crazy.
I’m getting a tattoo... With Bellamy Archer. My fake boyfriend. Someone I might not speak to in two weeks. The thought upsets me, it unsettles me slightly thinking of not talking to him at all. I shake it completely. We’ll still be friends after this… Right?
“Ready?” The tattoo artist has his eyes locked on me.
I nod and smile at the man, “As I’ll ever be.”
I hear the buzzing and I close my eyes. Bellamy chose my forearm.
Right under the bend of my arm. I could feel the artist sterilizing my skin.
I’m anxious to see what it is, to see what he decided for me.
I tilt my head up to the ceiling, waiting for the pain.
The second the needle touches my skin I’m thrown off.
It doesn’t feel good, but it doesn’t hurt. It’s just… uncomfortable.
“You good?” The artist asks me.
“Fine.”
“It’s her first,” Bellamy exposes me once again, and the artist practically snorts he laughs so hard.
“No shit? It’s your first tattoo, and you didn’t even choose it?”
I don’t look at him, mostly because I don’t want to see the tattoo.
“Nope.”
“You must really trust your boyfriend.”
Despite the weird feeling I get at the word boyfriend I still laugh softly.
Jade mentioned us dating, and it left me feeling unsettled mostly because I didn’t want Bellamy’s friends to think badly of me.
I’m not one to care about opinions, but I seem to care about theirs.
I like them, all of them a lot. But hearing the word boyfriend from a stranger, I don’t mind as much.
Mostly because I know this person won’t remember me tomorrow, or the next day.
I’m minuscule in this man’s life, this lie won’t mean a thing to him.
To Bell’s friends? It does mean something to them.
Even if they aren’t involved, this list means something to the whole group.
“You have no idea…”
“How does it feel?” The artist asks.
“Kinda like losing your virginity,” My mouth speaks before I have a second to even think about what I’m saying.
A chorus of laughs comes from the entire room.
“Never heard that one before,” Bellamy’s artist speaks out.
I look at Bellamy who has a bit of pink in his cheeks, and a smile on his face, “Are you going to elaborate on that one Ryn?”
“It hurts, but not like I thought it would. It’s more uncomfortable, and dull,” I tell all of them.