Tattoos Together || Larry Stylinson

Chapter 18

We hadn't done it. I stopped him before we'd even really started.

We sat across from each other at the breakfast table. My family had already gone to the beach and they had left us a note with greetings, fresh bread rolls and money for bus tickets.

I watched Harry pour some orange juice into the glass in front of him. We had talked noticeably little to each other that morning and I attributed that to what had happened the previous night.

"Are you mad at me, Harry? I didn't mean to hurt you; it was just that... that you were so different yesterday. So not exactly different, but you said so much nonsense, I thought we were going to cancel this moment up, for when we are both one hundred percent committed and..."

"I wasn't talking nonsense; this is totally serious to me. I want this, Louis. And if you don't come with me... fine, just leave it, but I'll get this tattoo. If that's what you mean." He interrupted me, looking up a little hurt from his bun, which he was just smearing with jam.

"As for the other thing, Lou... I don't know what got into me, I had no control. I agree with you, we should wait. My mistake."

I reached across the table for his hand to clasp it in mine.

"Anne will kill me for not taking care of you, babe. I mean, I like the thought of ink on that delicate skin of yours, but I'm convinced by the fact, your mom wouldn't."

"Guess I'm old enough to take care of myself."

"You turned sixteen last month."

He cut off the discussion with a death look and somehow, I could understand him, after all I didn't show him any other way. But the difference was that I knew very well that I wasn't going to grow old with it and probably wouldn't survive the point where I would start to regret my tattoos.

"I really, really want it." He whispered pleadingly.

I couldn't say no when I saw his puppy look in the eyes. He knew exactly what to do, to get on with me.

"Okay, Hazza, but the spot you picked is really not a good place for a first tattoo." He looked at me questioningly, apparently waiting for an explanation.

"You know, your tummy or chest has many nerve endings and when I tickled you yesterday, I tested how sensitive you are... By the way the closer the needle gets to the sternum, the more uncomfortable it becomes. You said, you want it in the middle. You can probably guess what all that means. "

Unimpressed, he crossed his arms on the table. "Still, I want it."

"Stubborn kiddo, you." I shook my head. Then he just had to make the experience.

"You told me it was all about the pain."

I gave him an indefinable look. I couldn't explain to him that it was my own freaky little form of self-harm.

"All right, then get ready, we'll go straight away. Oh, and Haz. -You shouldn't continue to eat, not that you vomit everything later."

The mention of 'vomit' made the lively curly hair frown briefly in concern, which made me smile smugly. I knew he wasn't going to back down now, but I could see from him that he was no longer entirely at ease with what was going to happen.

Half an hour later we were sitting next to each other on the bus. I saw Harry jiggle his leg up and down nervously.

I put my palm reassuringly over his narrow knee, not covered by his torn pants.

"You don't have to do that; we can just walk around town and have a relaxing day." I said softly and stroked my thumb over his skin.

What I had actually wanted to do, I had spontaneously postponed. In the end, it didn't really matter. -Maybe it was, but I assumed I still had enough time.