Chapter Sixteen #2
“Forget the fact that it’s your initials; this was my choice, the only thing that it has to do with you is the fucking initials and the fact that you were the one who shot me there.”
“Zahra—”
The groan that left my throat cut him off. “What is the big deal, for fuck’s sake? I was so excited about this. It’s the beginning of my tattoo era; I should be downing it with shots or something.”
“It is a big deal.” His voice was hard, same as his stare. “It will be a big deal when you look at it in the mirror every fucking day, and it reminds you of me.”
I angled myself properly so my body was facing his. “How is that such a bad thing?”
He shook his head, hand going to mess up his hair.
“Zahra, tattoos are meant to be monumental; they’re meant to mean something to you because they stay, okay?
They don’t leave your skin or fade away; they’re supposed to be something you look at and—feel something, good or bad, depending on what they’re there for. They’re supposed to be meaningful.”
“Okay?” I said softly, seeing where he was coming from.
“You think you don’t mean anything to me?
” I asked, and his gaze fell from mine to the console.
“You think I spend time or money on someone that means nothing to me? Do you think I’d even tattoo your fucking initials on my skin if I didn’t like you so much it annoys the fucking hell out of me? ”
He made some strained, uncomfortable noise that had me backing my statement.
“Elio, half of these things that I do with you, I’ve never done them with anybody else.
I have never felt like this for anyone in my entire fucking miserable life, and sometimes I just look at myself and wonder if I’m still the same Zahra who left Sicily years ago.
That’s how much you affect me, you idiot, so yes, I tattooed your initials on my skin, and I love it; it’s pretty, they’re really fucking strong initials, and I’m wearing them proud—”
“And they’re going to stay there.” His gaze locked with mine. “They’re going to be there, and I—what if I’m not here, Zahra?” His eyes worked, looking between mine, finding my response.
“I don’t understand. Do you plan on going somewhere?”
He looked frustrated now, brows twitching between a frown and defeat before his unsure gaze fell back to the console, his lips a little downturned, eyes worried, his free hand clenching and unclenching on his thigh, which housed a leg that was now bouncing rapidly on his seat.
“Elio,” I called.
He shook his head. “I apologize, but this is—”
“Just a tattoo.”
He looked at me again, almost helpless, as he took my hand.
“My head…” He looked into my eyes like he was trying to plaster his words to my brain.
“My head is all kinds of messed up right now, Zahra. That—that little tattoo on your shoulder is ruining the reason why I drew this tattoo all over my body. You’re undoing the only thing that I was living for. ”
“And that is what? Huh? To hurt yourself?”
“No. To fix this. To bring balance.”
I leveled him with a glare. “A balance that involves you dying.”
“You won’t understand.”
The scoff that left me was bitter. “I really don’t want to be that person, and I know this is a shitty thing to say to you right now, but do you think you’re the only one who’s had it tough?
People suffer worse shit, people are out there, suffering worse shit, living a life so despicable and vile and they don’t want to fucking off themselves, and you’re here blaming yourself for what happened to your family?
That’s not fair, Elio, because it’s not even your fault!
Do you think this is what they would have wanted?
You think that’s what your mom would have wanted? ”
“Yes! This is what she wants. She told me—” He stopped. Color drained from his face. Shock filled his eyes at what he had just said.
“Elio—”
“No, forget I said anything.” His voice was precise, clipped.
He looked away from me; his leg stopped bouncing, his hands stopped shaking.
His eyes stopped looking confused; his openness was gone.
Now, all I saw was the blank wall he used to be.
It was like his brain had turned, and he had just flicked on a reset button.
“The tattoo caught me off guard. I did not think you would choose that kind of design. It is beautiful, nonetheless.”
I blinked, unsure of what just happened. “I can’t just forget what happened; you were saying something about—”
“I did not know what I was saying.” He started the engine of the car. “It has been a stressful day; I think we should get food from that place you mentioned earlier; I cannot remember the name, but if you would—”
My hand covered his on the steering wheel.
“Elio,” I called, bringing his hand to me while I placed my hand on the other side of his face, turning his head so he could look at me.
“You can tell me anything,” I said, our gazes unwavering.
“All jokes aside, all threats aside, I am here to listen to whatever—”
“I do not have anything to say. And stop looking at me like that. I am fine. I am not crazy.”
I shook my head quickly. “I didn’t say that. At all.”
“Then stop looking at me like that; I don’t like it.”
“Okay, I just—” I blew out a breath. “Listen, if I had known the tattoo would affect you this way, I would have gotten something else.”
He shook his head. “It is okay. I understand. As I said, it is a beautiful tattoo. I panicked for nothing. I am not used to this, so it is most likely normal that you do this, and it is okay. It is your body, and you can choose to do whatever you want to it. I will only support you and offer my opinions if asked.”
I didn’t like how he spoke, calculating his words before he said them.
“I—”
“And please, forget about me wanting to hurt myself. I do not, and I will not. I have too much to lose if I die now. So you do not have to worry; that was not what I implied.”
I sighed, reluctantly letting it slide. “Okay,” I said.
“Hm,” he responded, detaching his hand from mine. “Now, where is that restaurant of yours?”
We ordered paella. No, I ordered paella, Elio just ordered what I ordered, and I wasn’t sure he liked it. It was a special recipe, so it wasn’t the typical paella; this one was fully garnished with prawns, beef, and calamari, and the rice was incredibly delicious.
When I took the first spoonful, I almost forgot why there was a bit of tension between me and the man sitting opposite me in our booth. I was enjoying the meal, but then I looked up and realized he was picking at his food.
“You don’t like it?”
He looked up at me immediately. “I do.”
“Then why aren’t you eating?”
He looked at the plate in front of him before settling his gaze on me again. “I like it, but I don’t eat that much.”
I scoffed. “Now that’s a lie.”
He raised a brow at me. “What makes you think it’s a lie?”
I pinned him with a blank stare. “Seriously? All this coming from the guy who ate almost all the food in the fucking bowl I provided right after he fucked me in a tub?” I asked. “Or do we have to have sex before you eat like you did that day?”
He tilted his head like he was thinking about it. “Are you suggesting that we do? Because if you are, I would love to try that method.”
A laugh bubbled from my chest and out of my mouth. “Oh my God, Elio, I can never figure you out.”
The sides of his lips lifted a bit. “I was only considering what you said; besides, I think I ate that much because we were eating together.”
“We are eating together now.”
“I meant from the same plate or bowl, rather. Also, I do not really like … prawns.”
I nodded. “So why did you order paella with prawns?”
“Because you ordered it,” he stated.
“You could have just ordered something else.”
“I couldn’t see anything that was written on the menu. The font didn’t agree with my poor vision, so I could not place the words. It made it difficult to read, and I did not bring my glasses.”
Something softened in my chest.
“So why didn’t you ask for help?”
He looked down at the food, using the spoon to push away the prawn closest to it. “We were not talking.”
Jesus, this man.
I was convinced he was doing this shit on purpose. There was no fucking way. No fucking way he was making me feel like this by just being so fucking … ugh, adorable. Like a big baby. My big baby … I really did hit the jackpot with this one, didn’t I?
One minute he’s like the manliest man ever to exist, and the next, he’s—such a kid.
A spoiled kid.
I shook my head, dropping my spoon and getting to my feet.
“What are you doing?” he asked with a clueless frown as I rounded the table and came to his side of the booth.
“Scoot over,” I said.
His frown remained while he shifted, and I took the space beside him. I picked up my plate from the other side of the table and brought it over before pouring my food onto his plate, dropping the empty plate beside the overfilled one, and moving the prawns onto the empty one.
“We’ll eat from the same plate, no prawns, no excuses,” I said, knowing his eyes were on me, a piercing stare that made my stomach jump, one that made my heart thump, and compelled my eyes to meet his.
His stare held an emotion I couldn’t even begin to understand if I tried.
I smiled. “Wha—”
He leaned in, pressed his lips to mine, and gave my existence a two-second glitch.
Soft and familiar lips lingered on mine, made me melt a little, made me weak, and drove me to a place where all the little issues we’d had since we left the cruise meant nothing.
He lingered a bit and then pulled away. I opened my eyes as he pulled his open.
“You want to know something?” he asked.
I nodded.
Elio worried his bottom lip with his teeth, his eyes flickering between my eyes and my lips. “I think … I think I really like you, Zahra.”
This wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but—this time, it felt like he meant it more than the last time he said it.
I smiled. “I think I really like you, too, Elio.”
He returned my smile, his voice low. “Repeating my words?”
“You kissed mine out of me; your fault.”
He placed his hand underneath my chin and raised my head. “I am sorry if I offended you today by leaving the tattoo shop. And also with our conversation in the car about the tattoo. I really do think it’s a beautiful tattoo, and I’m flattered.”
I didn’t know it was possible for someone’s heart to swell.
But it felt like mine was swelling; I loved his compliments.
Though I liked to pretend I didn’t, I actually sought them out.
It was why I’d taken extra care with my outfit today, applied a little bit of eyeliner and lip gloss, found my favorite sweater, and fussed about what to do with my hair.
It was why I was doing things that I would typically not do.
“It’s okay. I’m not mad. I should be the one apologizing for Julio and—”
“You already apologized. I am not angry either. What I have with you beats that, right? It beats everything. These feelings, they’re new for you too? Like you said in the car?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Then I have nothing to worry about. You are an exception for me, as you’ve implied that I am, also, for you.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He kissed me again, and I sank into it. His body called to mine, and I answered with my heart and my body … but my mind …
My mind was speaking a different language.
I was digging an even bigger hole for myself. I had fallen into this hole, but for some reason, I was still digging, falling deeper into my own pit, but it didn’t matter … the space around me felt good; it felt different, and I felt free.
But for how long?
How long can I keep digging?
How long can I keep lying?