𝑺 𝑬 𝑹 𝑬 𝑵 𝑰 𝑻 𝒀 (18+)

Forty-five.

S E R E N I T Y

♥

I had no tattoos but I wanted one. I wasn't sure where the urge came from but it wouldn't have been the first time I did something spontaneous. When I got my nose pierced I was seventeen and I was drunk out of my mind. I got my belly button pierced at nineteen years old and I wasn't drunk or high, but I ended up having sex with the piercer after. This time I wanted to make a spontaneous decision that didn't leave me with a hangover or worse, without an orgasm.

I didn't want anything extreme, didn't want it to be in an area that was easily accessible. I wanted a butterfly, something cute and small in a place where only me or my partner could see. To be precise I wanted it on my butt cheek, the right one to be specific. No rhyme or reason, just what seemed to call out to me the most. Plus, if my mother wasn't able to see it I'd skip out on all of the nagging. That sounded like a dream to me.

"The answer is no," I heard Noah call out from the kitchen. He was ruining my good mood. I had the Weeknd playing on his stereo, volume practically deafening. I was dancing around barefoot with my hair up and one of his abnormally large t-shirts on. I never had to worry about my feet getting dirty because Noah would go into cardiac arrest if he saw as much as a crumb on any surface in his house.

"I wasn't asking, besides I think it'll be cute, don't you?"

"I can barely hear you with that music turned up so loud!" He yelled. I rolled my eyes and paused the music before skipping into the kitchen. Noah was hard at work cooking like the perfect housewife he was.

"You're no fun," I teased swiping my hand in the pasta sauce. He was making chicken alfredo, a housewife specialty.

"Anyways, I think it'll be very cute but I don't want you in a shop with your pants down. Why don't I just have someone come here tonight and do it for you?"

"You're serious?" If he was also willing to pay for it that would be extremely appreciated. I had my own money but there was nothing wrong with being spoiled by the man you were sleeping with.

"Absolutely, stir this I'll go call someone now." He handed me the wooden spoon and disappeared off into the living room. I heard some laughing, some bullying, and then some more laughing before he returned to the kitchen.

"Someone, you know?" I asked before stealing a piece of chicken this time.

"Yeah, he did my tattoo when I was seventeen."

This could be promising.

"Something tells me you didn't have your parent's permission," I sang. Noah laughed and switched the burner off, "you're right I forged it. And when you have enough money people don't ask questions. He's a good guy though, snitched on me after he got paid."

Rich people and their privilege, it was time someone put them in their place. "Will you ever tell me about your tattoo?" I raised my hand to it but stopped just short. He glanced at my hand and then at me, he smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes. There was a sadness, fleeting but it was present.

"Maybe, one day. Here, you should eat."

...

Noah's guy came about an hour or two after we finished dinner. He was older, a lot older than I expected. He was gray everywhere and covered in tattoos. Glasses sat comfortably on the bridge of his nose and he wore a shirt with a picture of who I assumed to be his wife. He looked like a cross between a cute old man and a biker. Or maybe, a cute old man in a biker costume.