Unwanted Bride Of Atticus Fawn

Clarrisa's POV

I bit my lip, and he surprised me when he pulled my bottom lip from under my teeth with his fingers, “don’t do that in front of me.”

Couldn’t I bite my lip in front of him anymore? It didn’t bother him in the past. Why did it bother him now?

He’s confusing me with his words and actions. I have no idea what it means anymore.

“So maybe I did get a small tattoo,” I mumble. “I don’t see why it’s such a big deal to you.”

I didn’t want to lie to him anymore. But at the same time, I was unwilling to tell him I’d got a tattoo of his name.

He swallows, “I thought we told each other everything"

“Why are you so upset about this?” I ask him. “Why does it bother you?”

I was not going to let this go. I wanted an answer to my question. I watch the frustration on his face as he tries to come to terms with what I’ve done.

“Because of all of the things that you do, no matter how small they are, it always affects me.” He finally answers me.

My lips part at his confession. I couldn’t believe he’d just admitted that to me. Was it true? Did everything I do really affect him so badly?

“How does it affect you?” I whisper as I search his eyes.

How does a tattoo affect him? It’s on my body, not his. Unless he already knew that the tattoo had his name on it. I quickly dispose of that thought. He doesn’t know. I’ll know when he does.

He takes a deep breath, “I love your skin just the way it is. You didn’t need to get a tattoo. It was already beautiful.”

I sighed; I had to explain to him that I didn’t get it just for the sake of getting one.

“That tattoo holds sentimental value to me,” I explain. “I didn’t get it because I wanted to see what it would look like. I got it because it actually means something to me. I got it because it helped me be closer to someone I know I’ll never get the chance to be that close with.”

His eyes narrow, “you got it because of someone?”

I pause and immediately realize my mistake.

I bite my lip; I’d said too much. I kept making the same mistakes over and over again.

What would he think of me if he assumed that I’d gotten the tattoo for some random guy that he’d never heard about before?

“Forget I said anything,” I tell him.

There was no way I would show him whose name
was on my ass. I knew I would cause more damage than good if I let him believe it was for a guy, but I had to do it.

I knew that one day soon when I thought it was the right time, I wouldn’t hesitate to show him. For now, I’ll let him believe what he wants to.

He suddenly laughs, and it surprises me. What was so funny? It didn’t seem like a genuine laugh, more like a sarcastic one.

I watch as he runs a hand through his hair and steps back from me.

“Clearly, I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.” He whispers more to himself than me.

“Damon!” I try to stop him.

I’d somehow hurt him with my words.

“It’s okay, Clarissa.” He stops me. “I’m not upset with you. Never with you. I wasn’t upset with you earlier either; I lied.”