𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄 | 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚕𝚏

𝚃𝚆𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚈-𝙾𝙽𝙴 | CRASH!

Lexie couldn't hold back her laughter as the tattoo artist turned to Scott with a teasing grin and said, "Boy, it's a good thing you drew me a picture." The artist's playful remark was aimed at Scott, whose face had grown tense as the needle buzzed to life. Lexie, barely ten years old, tried to stifle her giggles, quickly clapping her hands over her mouth. Despite her best efforts, a few snickers slipped through, earning her a sharp, unimpressed glare from Scott. Lexie just grinned sheepishly, her eyes twinkling with mischief, knowing she'd probably pay for it later.

"Hey, Scott, you sure you don't want something like this?" Stiles asked with a smirk, holding up a picture of a creature that looked eerily like the kanima—a reptilian monster they'd both had more than enough experience with. The image instantly brought back a flood of memories for Lexie. She shuddered involuntarily as her mind flashed back to the blood, the chaos, and the horrific deaths they had witnessed. The trauma surged to the surface, tightening her chest. "Too soon? Yeah," Stiles muttered, quickly catching on to the discomfort in the air. His grin faltered as he awkwardly set the booklet aside, pressing his lips into a tight, regretful line. Even he had to admit the joke had crossed a line, though he had never been great at timing. Scott gave him a look, and Lexie tried to shake off the unsettling thoughts, but the images lingered in her mind.

"I don't know, man. Are you sure about this? I mean, these things are pretty permanent, you know?" Stiles's voice cut through the tension in the room as he leaned slightly toward Scott, his hand resting lightly on Lexie's upper back for reassurance. His eyes flickered nervously between Scott and the tattoo design, clearly trying to break the heavy atmosphere with his usual anxious humor.

Lexie smirked, sensing Stiles's unease. "Are you scared?" she teased, her voice laced with playful mockery as she turned to glance at him over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Stiles scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Me? Scared? Please," he said, a hint of deflection in his tone. Gently, but with a huff of mock exasperation, he turned her head back toward Scott, his hand dropping from her back as he shook his head, trying to maintain his cool.

Scott, unfazed by the banter, sat resolutely in the chair, his eyes fixed on the design. "I'm not changing my mind," he said with quiet determination. His voice was firm, cutting through the playful exchange with finality. He wasn't second-guessing this, even with Stiles's constant ribbing. Lexie watched him, impressed by his confidence, while Stiles gave up with a shrug, knowing there was no talking him out of it now.

"Okay, but why two bands?" Stiles asked, leaning forward in his chair with a curious frown, his eyes narrowing as he examined the simple design on Scott's arm. His tone was casual but hinted at the underlying expectation that Scott had some deeper reasoning behind the choice.

Scott shrugged, his expression relaxed. "I just like it," he said matter-of-factly, as if the decision was as simple as picking out a shirt. Lexie, who had been quietly observing, tilted her head slightly in surprise. She had expected Scott to offer some profound explanation for the design—a story, a memory, or a connection to something personal. But no, it seemed the plain drawing was just that: something he liked.

Stiles wasn't satisfied with the answer. "But don't you think your first tattoo should have, I don't know, meaning?" he pressed, his hands gesturing vaguely in the air. "Like, something that represents who you are or what you've been through?" He was clearly hoping for something deeper to latch onto, unable to wrap his head around the simplicity of Scott's choice.

Scott, unfazed, gave Stiles a steady look. "Getting a tattoo means something," he replied, his voice calm but resolute. There was a quiet confidence in his words, a certainty that shut down any further questioning. For Scott, the act itself carried the significance—not the design.