If I'm There - A Noah Sebastian Story

Chapter One - Re-Start

*A/N: Y'all, I promise this will get better!
KATRINA'S POV
The final prayer. The taps. The gun salute. All of it ran rampant through my mind even days, weeks, even months after the burial. The flag sat perfectly folded in a case above the black bricked fireplace, preserved from dust and outer elements. His photo sat next to it, along with the last letter I had received from him. I had contemplated just boxing it all up, shoving his memory on a shelf where it wouldn't haunt me anymore, but I had other things to focus on, other things to do.

"Kat, come on, dear, we're gonna be late for our flight." My step mom, Cecilia, urged as she grabbed our bags. I gave her a soft smile and picked up a suitcase to help her out. Since the sudden passing of my husband, she had been around to help. I didn't need it, but it was nice to have someone. Though he'd been deployed for quite some time and I was already alone, it was different lonely feeling. That feeling of knowing he wouldn't come back, and I wouldn't be going to pick him up from the base either. Instead I said my first hello to him in months, and our last goodbye for eternity, with him in a closed casket.

The flight to Florida wasn't long, but it remained silent as Cecilia struggled to find the proper words. We'd had a discussion the night before that while I was on Shiprocked it was my redo, and that I was ready to set things behind me that I couldn't control.

"Are you looking forward to it? I know this is huge for your career!" She finally landed on a subject, just as the plane landed.

"Yeah, it's super exciting. I think it's an awesome opportunity, I just don't know exactly how many people are looking to get a tattoo on a cruise ship vacation. Considering after care and all, that is." I knew I would be speaking foreign to her if I went into detail on my stance of tattoos on vacations being a terrible idea. But the deal that was offered was great, and I certainly wasn't going to turn it down.
When we made it to the hotel for the night I laid down the schedule of boarding with her, what time we need to be up, what time we should be at the dock, and that there most certainly would be coffee on board.

As I stood in line with her to dock I went over my check list;
Tattoo machine, check.
Inks, check.
Cartridges galore, check.
Gloves in plenty, check.
Sanitization, check.
The list went on, and it was lots to carry, but nothing I couldn't handle. When we were asked to go ahead and come forward I struggled to grab everything and saw a tattooed hand reach in and help grab stuff.

"Here," I heard a light voice say, "let me help you." I looked up and met a pair of brown eyes. "Oh, sorry, my bad," he sat my tattoo supply box down and held his hand out, "I'm Chris," I smiled and shook his hand.

"I know, I mean, I'm Kat, it's nice to meet you." He smiled and held my gaze for a moment, then picked my case back up.

"So, you're the tattoo artist for this year?" He asked as he helped me get the supplies put in the small shop. I nodded as I triple checked my list. "Well, then I will have to stop in. I gotta go, but I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, for sure! See ya around." Chris hurried out and I finished setting up, then locked the door behind me as I left to head to my room. Cecilia and I had gotten separate rooms, but they were side by side and shared a balcony. I stepped out onto it and took a seat, and she came out as well.

"That Chris boy was real sweet, and super cute." She said with a smile, lowering her sunglasses. I shook my head.

"And I'm not looking for a relationship. Besides, he's like, ten years older than me."

"And? I'm older than your father, it's completely normal! Besides, you don't have to have a relationship to have a little fun-" I pushed myself out of the chair, trying to exit the awkward conversation.

"Okay, and with that, I'm going to go get a drink."

"I'll come with you!"

"No!" It came out a little harsher than I thought, so I back tracked. "I mean, I just need a moment alone. That's all." I grabbed my purse and headed to the bar that I was glad to see was open. I sat down and ordered a margarita, then scrolled through my phone and checked the multiple notifications that had built on my phone. Continued condolences, inquiries for tattoo pricing, the usual. As I sat there slowly sipping my margarita I noticed someone take a seat next me. I didn't pay much attention to his order, and kept reading through my notifications, then I felt eyes on me. I turned to face him, and this time it was a different set of brown eyes. He held out his hand for me to shake, and I took it. I knew him from somewhere but couldn't quite place him.

"I'm Noah, you must be Kat, the tattoo artist." I smiled and nodded. "Chris and I had bumped into each other, he had said he'd met you already." Word travels fast. I wasn't quite in the mood to have a conversation, so I remained quiet, but the company was nice. "Right, well, I guess I will see you around." He said while grabbing his drink and getting up. That was short lived.
Later that night I started heading back to my room from setting up a bit more in the shop area. I needed some alone time, and that was the perfect spot. I hadn't even paid attention to where I was walking, as I was caught up in scheduling myself full, and collided with someone in the hallway. We both hit the ground, and he held a hand out for me to grab after he picked himself back up. It was Noah again.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying any attention to anything-"

"No, it's fine," he insisted, "I was the one running down the hall. I didn't mean to tackle you. Are you okay?" He looked me up and down, assessing any wounds I may have gained. I hadn't even thought about it, I was still just trying to figure out why he was so familiar. He lightly turned my elbow, which was now hurting and slightly burning. "Fuck, your elbow is scraped pretty bad. Here, I have a first aid kit, follow me," he urged. I did as he asked, and he ushered me into a room that was just one over from mine. "Sit on the bathroom counter, I'll grab the kit." I popped myself up on it, and continued to look around for any hint. I saw in-ears laying on the counter, meaning he was a singer. But of what band... it was killing me. "I think I owe you a proper introduction, since I blew it at the bar and then collided with you in the hall." He poured some peroxide on a cotton ball. "I'm Noah, I sing for a band called Bad Omens."

"I'm Kat, I'm the tattoo artist for this year." He gave me a warm smile, and began to dab the wound on my elbow. I cringed slightly at the pain, but it wasn't unbearable. Just uncomfortable.

"Well, Kat, I'm glad you finally said something to me."

"So did you and Chris bump in the way you bumped into me, is it just something you commonly do when you wanna talk to someone?" I joked. Noah smiled and let out a small laugh.

"No, Chris is a good friend. We were just talking and he was raving about the beautiful tattoo artist, and her work. Thought I'd have to say hi, too. You know, before Prince Chris comes swooping in." I rolled my eyes at his statement.

"Well, let 'Prince Chris' know I'm not looking for anyone. My husband just passed a few months ago, so I'm kind of busy, ya know, grieving. Being a widow. The usual for a 26 year old woman who lost her husband." Noah placed a bandaid on my elbow and discarded the trash.

"Fuck, Kat, I don't even know what to say. I had no clue." I stayed sitting on the counter and he popped up and sat next to me. "I guess that explains why you blew me of earlier?"

"Yup," I nodded, "and the only reason Chris got anything out of me was because he didn't give me a choice on him helping. He just swooped in." Noah laughed again and looked down.

"He's good about that, but he's harmless. He's a great guy, really. I mean, most genuine person you'll ever meat." We fell a silent, and my feet dangled from the counter. "I mean, I'm not saying you should date him or anything, but knowing him isn't a bad thing." His voice trailed off and he went quiet again. I hopped off the counter and grabbed my phone and purse.

"I'll see you around, right?" I asked him. He followed after, and walked me out to the hall.

"Y-yeah, for sure. I won't get a tattoo, but I'll pop in. Maybe we can get dinner together? As friends, of course." He was clearly just as introverted as me, and his tone of voice gave it away. He truly wasn't the personality type that approached me earlier at the bar. I reached into my purse and passed him my business card with my number on it.