Cracks

Free- Dylan's POV

Dylan's POV-

I was nervous. It was absolutely ridiculous that I was nervous, but I was. It wasn't even the whole tattoo thing that I was nervous about. It was the sneaking out part that I was nervous about. I had never done it before, and I was scared that I was going to get caught and not be able to see Presley for even longer.

Presley: Just an FYI we're picking out each other's tats. It'll be funner that way! So be thinking about it! You better make mine good or I'll stab you.

Scratch that... I was definitely nervous about the tattoo too. Not only was I worried about what Presley was planning on permanently inking onto my body... But also, what I had to put on Presley. Dammit.

I stared out the window that I'd be going out through later that night with a frown. Suddenly, the song that was playing in the background from my playlist stood out to me. It made me smile widely as the song continued. It reminded me of Presley exactly. It fit her completely and gave me the perfect tattoo idea.

----

"Sup, kid. Can I interest you in some drugs?" Presley asked in a horrible fake deep voice from the shadow of the building that we agreed to meet at.

"That depends on what kind, I guess," I replied with a laugh as she snorted at my answer.

"All of the drugs," she said with a goofy grin.

"Perfect, just what I wanted," I joked as we began walking the way that she indicated.

"You're such a little baddie now," she said sarcastically as she stuck her tongue out at me with a loud giggle.

"So how exactly are we, two seventeen year old's, going to get tattoos tonight?" I finally asked as I followed her through the not-so-great neighborhood.

"Honestly... My weed connect is also a tattoo artist," she shrugged.

"And... does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?" She asked absentmindedly, seeming to be completely unfazed, even as we walked past sketchy people who were eyeing her openly.

"Getting a tattoo!" I said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, speeding up making sure to stick close to her while glaring at the people who had been checking her out.

"Oh... No idea, I've never gotten one," she shrugged.

"What?!" I asked perplexed. She had made it sound like she had done it multiple times before.

"Yeah, so I've got no clue. I've heard it just depends mostly on the spot that you get it in."

"You are such a poser!" I teased her with a laugh.

"It's not my fault that everyone labeled me wrong!" She rolled her eyes as she led me into a weird looking shop.

"Are we also picking the spot that the tattoo goes in too?" I asked as I eyed the artwork on the walls wearily.

"Sure," she shrugged. "Is there anywhere that's an absolute no-no?"

"The face, obviously," I said. "Preferably not my hands either..."

"Your arm is okay though?" She asked cautiously.

"Arm is fine," I confirmed.

"What if your parents see it?"

"It'll be funny," I shrugged with a laugh.

"They're going to make sure that you never see me again if they see it," she sighed.