Best of Friends

Chapter Sixteen: Permanency in Ink and Poetry

and here is the chapter that I finally get to show off what I learned in my Brit Lit classes hahaha

Chapter Sixteen - Permanency in Ink and Poetry

Iain's lips were hungry on mine. I tangled my fingers in his hair as he made out with me on the couch. I was trying really hard not to be embarrassed in front of Olivia, or Ben, who was fuming.

"Mm, I love you," Iain growled out against my lips. My heart pounded, even though I knew he was only saying it for show. I guess, it was just the idea of a guy like Iain saying those three meaningful words to a girl like me.

"I love you too," I murmured back, and his lips attacked mine again. He pulled my shirt off, and tossed it aside.

"Okay, don't you think you two should get a room?" Ben spat.

"No way, I could sit here and watch them fuck for days," Olivia said, earnestly.

Iain smirked against my lips, and sat up, picking me up, my legs around his waist. He unclasped my bra, and tossed it aside. He covered me with his body carefully, shielding me from Olivia and Ben's eyes.

"We're getting a room, happy now?" Iain asked, his eyes looking pointedly at Ben. I grabbed Iain's face between my hands and kissed him. He carried me to his room, his lips never breaking mine. He shut the door behind us and locked it.

"I shouldn't have to maul you like that in front of your brother as a favor for your brother if it's only going to piss your brother off." He sat me down, and I crossed my arms around my chest so he couldn't see me. I walked to his closet and grabbed a shirt.

"If you want another bra, I think there's one in the top left drawer, because it somehow got mixed in with my clothes," Iain said.

"Okay, thanks," I said, finding it, and going to the bathroom. I got dressed and fixed my hair the best I could. I looked down on the counter to see a brand new tube of After Inked, which was the ointment Iain put on his tattoos after he got them while they were still healing, which meant he had a new piece he hadn't told me about.

"Iain?" I asked, walking out into his room. I noticed his tattoo jar was now empty.

"Show me!" I said, "You got a new tattoo and didn't mention it! What is it? I want to see! When did you get it? Where is it?"

"I was drunk," he said.

"I don't care, I still want to see it," I said, happily. Iain sat up on his bed, and peeled off his shirt, exposing the new ink on his ribcage.

It was a black outline of a rose, the outline itself being made up of the words,

"O my Luve is like a red, red rose

That's newly sprung in June;

O my Luve is like the melody

That's sweetly played in tune.

So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,

So deep in luve am I;

And I will luve thee still, my dear,

Till a' the seas gang dry."

In the center of the outline of the rose were the words, "mo piseag."

"The poem is one by Robert Burns, he's a Scottish poet," Iain said, "I was really drunk, and I don't know," he said.

"I love it. It's definitely my new favorite," I said.

"What was your old favorite?" Iain asked, as if he were amused that I would have a favorite.

"The script on your arm from 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,'" I said.

"In the room the women come and go, talking of Michelangelo," he replied.

"I also love the tiny peach on your arm that's kind of hidden unless you look really hard and it has the line, 'Do I dare to eat a peach?'"

"You really like that poem, huh?" Iain chuckled.

"It was the first poem I ever liked," I shrugged, "But even if this tattoo was a drunken choice, it was a good one. I love it. How much did it cost?" I asked.

"A pretty penny," Iain sighed, "More than what was in that jar."

"Do you regret it?" I asked.

"No. It helped me figure out some things. I like it. I'm glad you like it," he said.

"What is 'mo piseag'?" I asked.

"It's Scottish-Gaelic."

"What does it mean?" I asked.

"I'll tell you some other time. I've showed you enough of my soul today," he chuckled. I pouted, my bottom lip jutting out, and Iain bit it teasingly.