The Rebel Royalties

Chapter 45

Carla's POV

I reached up to grab a cup from the cupboard when Derek cleared his throat, I looked back at him. "Your shirt is riding up," he said, I froze and pulled the right side of my shirt down as he tilted his head at me. "I have an idea," he said, I raised an eyebrow at him and wrapped my arms around myself.

"What's up," I asked, he shrugged.

"You remember how we talked about you covering that scar with a tattoo," he asked, I nodded, swallowing. "So, what if I gave you a temporary tattoo with sharpies," he asked, one side of my lips tilted up.

"It's not exactly temporary if we're using sharpies," I said, he rolled his eyes, smiling at me.

"Is that your indirect way of saying yes," he asked, I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded. He grinned at me and nodded, "Okay, anything that you want me to include specifically," he asked, I shrugged.

"Just stuff I like, I guess," I said, he snorted and shook his head.

"Well, no crap, Princess," he told me, I snorted as he let out a breath. "You'll have to at least lift up your shirt for me to do it," he said, I swallowed and nodded.

"Yeah, I know."

***

I was sitting on the couch with my tank top pulled up to show the scar on my side with Derek beside me. All of his sharpies on the coffee table in front of us, "Are you sure you don't want an idea of it," he asked, looking at me, I nodded.

"Yeah, I'm not too worried about it, I'm sure I'll like it," I said, he grinned at me and nodded.

"Okay, that's not too much pressure," he joked, but I saw that he was nervous about it.

"We're watching Marvel movies in order," I told him, he nodded.

"Sounds good to me," he agreed, I turned on the TV as he grabbed a sharpie.

***

I was leaning against the arm of the couch, trying not to laugh, "You need to sit still, Carla," Derek said, I heard his laugh in his voice though.

"I can't, it tickles," I said, he laughed, shaking his head.

"Princess, I'm not even halfway done," he said, I shook my head.

"We are so fucked," I said, he snorted as the front door opened and Mom and Cynthia walked in.

"What are you two doing," Mom asked, Derek shrugged.

"The scar bothers her, so I'm giving her a temporary tattoo," he answered, I nodded as Cynthia tilted her head.

"A temporary tattoo using sharpies," she asked, I nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, we're dorks," I said, as Derek started drawing something and I squirmed.

"Carla," he exclaimed, I groaned.

"I'm sorry, it tickles," I said, Cynthia laughed and shook her head before going upstairs.

"How did this come about," Hannah asked, Derek shrugged.

"We talked about tattoo ideas for a cover up last year and her shirt was riding up and it was bothering her. So I figured we could do this," he said, I nodded.

"And it tickles, so I keep moving."

"And it's going to start messing me up," he reminded me, I groaned.

"I'm not trying to move."

"But you still are."

"Don't be a dick."