The Heartbreak Factor - Part Three

Chapter Four.

“We should do something wild on your last day of being a teenager,” George smiled as we laid on the sofa, intertwining our fingers in the air.

“What like?” I grinned, loving the sound of living wildly for one day. “Let’s live life on the edge.”

George looked around the room, trying to find something to give him an inspiration. “Let’s get a tattoo.”

I looked at him laughing but he didn’t laugh back. “Oh crap, you’re serious, aren’t you?” I asked.

“We’ve been together for two years tomorrow so it’s easy to say we’re serious – so why not?” he smiled.

“Erm.. okay then,” I grinned.

“I was thinking about a full on sleeve,” George winked at me.

“Would you find me attractive with a tattoo of Louis Walsh on my face?”

“Well it’d be an improvement,” George smiled.

“Bitch!” I said, bumping George with my hip.

As George fell off the sofa, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “That really hurt!” he sulked, sitting up with his hand on his head.

“Not my fault you lost balance,” I grinned.

“Fat ass,” he winked, getting back onto the sofa, elbowing my chest in the process.

“Are you calling me fat?” I asked. “Wow. First I’m ugly and now I’m fat? I’m such a catch.”

“I only love you because nobody else will,” he joked, wrapping his arm around my head in a sort of loose head lock.

“I don’t love you anymore,” I sulked.

“I’m joking,” he grinned. “Your ass isn’t fat.”

“What was that? Sorry. I can’t hear you since my ass flab is covering my ears.”

“You’re perfect the way you are,” he laughed, pulling me up to lie on him.

“Careful,” I said, jumping off the sofa. “Don’t wanna get on top of you as you might end up on the ground floor.”

*

“Are you sure?” the tattoo artist asked as he got the needle ready.

I looked over at George as he sat getting his tattoo done. “Yes.”

“Must be love if you trust him this much,” he laughed as I sat down on the chair.

“Or I’m stupid,” I joked which made George give me a funny look so I stuck my tongue out at him.

I must have been stupid though to let George decide on a tattoo design for me, never mind actually agreeing with it without seeing it before it was inked onto my skin for eternity.

“This might hurt a little,” the artist smiled as he put the needle to my skin.

“It’s okay,” I grinned. “I’m a girl. We go through child birth.”

George looked at me as the artist began to draw it. I couldn’t even work out what the design was as the pain hurt too much. “Holy..” I yelped.

“It hurts more on the bone.”

“You’re so evil,” I said to George as he laughed at my facial expressions as the tattoo artist continued to draw the tattoo on my lower hip.

“I didn’t know it’d hurt more,” he said. “I promise.”

“I’m actually surprised it hurts though, since I’m a fat whale.”

“Fat whale?” he grinned. “I only said you had a fat ass.. that escalated quickly.”

The tattoo artist began to laugh. “Don’t encourage him.”

“I just find it hilarious how he’s making out he’s all Mr Hardman when actually he was screeching like a little girl when we first started on the tattoo before you came in.”

I turned to George. “Is this true, Georgey?” I laughed.

“Keep still,” the tattoo artist said.

Attempting to laugh without moving was a challenge itself, especially as George tried to defend himself by claiming that he wasn’t expecting it when it happened. After an hour more of pain, it was finally finished with. George made the tattoo artist bandage it up so I couldn’t see what it was until we got back home, spoiling my fun in the process. All I wanted to do was see what it was. I made him promise that it wasn’t any writing or anything too weird but I still wanted to know what it was.

*

As soon as we got in the front door of our apartment, George grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bedroom. “Stand here,” he smiled, stopping in front of the mirror opposite our bed.

I looked at him as he took his shirt off to reveal the bandage patch just above his jeans’ waistband on his left side. It was in the same place that my tattoo was, apart from the fact that mine was on my right side and not the left.

“Ready?” George grinned, taking hold of the tape around the bandage.

I lifted my  shirt up to my waist and took hold of the tape around the bandage. “I’m scared,” I laughed nervously.

“Why?” he grinned. “You’ll like it.”

“If I don’t, you owe me some skin,” I smiled.

“You’ll love it,” he laughed. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

On a count of three, we both pulled our bandages off to reveal our matching tattoos. “Wow.”

“And look,” he smiled. “They go together.”

As he moved closer to me, I admired the tattoos. I had a Minnie Mouse ears outline with a red and white spotted bow while George just had the Mickey Mouse ears outline.

“I love it,” I grinned.

“This is forever,” he smiled, poking me gently on my tattoo and then on his tattoo.

“I love you,” I giggled, wrapping my arm around his waist as he put his arm around my shoulder.

“And when we hug each other, they hug each other.”

“Stop it, George,” I laughed. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“One more thing?” he grinned.

“What?”

“Mickey and Minnie.. they go together and everybody knows that they belong with each other and that they’re not complete when they’re not together,” he began. “That’s like us. When you’re not with me, I feel like part of me is missing. I’m not just saying that because it’s cheesy to make you emotional; I’m saying it because it’s true.”

“Paging Doctor Faggot.”