our tattoos.

PART FIVE. Elanoor Franklin And Christopher Hardy.

"Woah.." Susan awed. A small, delicate looking butterfly tattoo was perched on Christopher's shoulder, the lines so thin and sophisticated that it almost looked alive. If you blink your eyes fast enough, the wings give the illusion that they're fluttering, dancing, ready to fly away. "This is.. this is beautiful," Susan cooed. Her long fingers traced the swirls of the wings, amazed at the intricate design. 

Christopher smiled weakly. "It really captures her, doesn't it? She is beautiful and fragile, as a butterfly is. But you know, butterflies don't stay for long. You're left trying to pursue the damn thing. Aimlessly." 

Ringggg, ringgg, ringggg.

Christopher ignored the phone call, picking at the edge of his blanket. "Um, you gonna get that?" Susan asked impatiently. The more and more they sat there, pretending the irritating blare of the phone didn't exist, the more aggravated Susan became. "OH WILL YOU PICK IT UP ALREADY!" Susan screamed, the last of her patience dwindled out. 

Startled, Christopher scrambled to the wall that held his dark red phone. "Oh my goodness Christopher, I thought you were dead!" Sandra shouted. 

"..."

"Christopher?"

"Yeah."

"Are you okay? What's going on? Why haven't you picked up?"

"I'm magnificent," Christopher deadpanned. 

"You sure sound like it," Sandra replied. 

"..."

"Please answer me," Sandra pleaded. 

"I'm great."

"You sound like you just chugged a bottle of Gin. Is everything alright? Should I fly down?"

"No! No, stay there," Christopher begged. "You don't need to come down here."

"Why not? My college semester is over anyway. I think I am going to fly down," Sandra thought aloud.

"The only reason you would fly down," Christopher paused, bracing himself for the fire of questions. "Is because you would be attending my funeral."

"What?! CHRISTOPHER! What are you saying?" 

"My heart is bleeding. And at this point, I want it to just finish and bleed out already. I'm tired of always aching, and crying, and drinking crappy vodka for the temporary seize of her face in my memory. I am tired of my alarm clock that I ignore every morning, not to mention the phone calls. I'm tired of having soggy pillows that are drenched in my tears. But I deserve it. I made her hate me. Even so, I wish this agonizing routine would end," Christopher sobbed.

"You.. you're sad about Elanoor," Sandra said in disbelief. 

"Yes. In fact, I am sad about everything."

  Bleep. Bleep. Bleep. The line went dead. Sandra had hung up, frustrated with her brother. Why is he still upset about one girl? Sandra thought. It's so stupid. 

"Aghhhh!" Christopher shouted in despair. "I make everyone leave!" He marched right back into his room and pushed Susan out the door, explaining to her that he was never leaving his house again - even if it meant soggy pillows and crappy vodka.