Three Hearts, One Soul

Doorbells and Sexed-up Shenanigans

For the first time, stepping into my apartment was surreal. I'd never had occasion to wonder what someone sees when they stepped into my world, I've always thought my home was a cross between an old lady's house and a hippie's Haven. Tye dye tapestries depicting Grateful Dead bears and random indie favorites are spread across the walls alongside beautiful vintage paintings. Various knick-knacks are laid out across the many stuffed bookshelves and the desk is overflowing but neat; poems and short stories hinting at multiple worlds, hand drawn and surprisingly detailed maps and character outfits mixed in the organised clutter. The books are in good condition but you can tell at a glance that they've all been lovingly reread; from the ceiling to the rugs on the hardwood floor everything in the apartment screams comfort. Peace. Safety.

Now as I moved to put my bag down on the couch, I realised I had no clue what to do next. Do I offer them a drink? Give them the house rules? Demand to know why the hell I needed to bring them here in the first place? I took my hair down and ran my fingers through it, looking at the ground as I turned towards the two men, only to run into Ian..again! Without conscious thought I gripped his shirt catching myself before another clumsy disaster could strike, his arms going around my waist firmly, gently pulling me closer. Cradling me against him, he slid one hand into my loose curls, 'We have much to discuss. Are you calm enough to talk or do you have something you need to do to relax first?'

I looked up at him, managing to not get lost in his bright eyes as I nervously released his shirt and stepped away. Or as away as his arms allowed.

'Yes! I..I mean, yes, I would like to change and maybe make some tea..do you like tea? I could make something else...coffee..um..'

A finger against my lips paused my stuttering attempt at being a gracious host.

'You are very gracious, and graceful, minus one or two small incidents.' he smiled enough to reveal sparkling teeth and a hidden dimple, clearly already making himself at home inside my head, 'Do what you need to do and I'll find the tea. Leave it to me. Please.'
Ian was staring at his fingers, or maybe at the point where they touched my mouth, his eyes intent and serious now as they slid up to meet mine. He set my heart fluttering when our gazes met, how could one glance have my heart thumping louder than an AC/DC concert? I hastily slid out of his embrace, walking towards my room as calmly as I could fake, saying softly over my shoulder to make themselves at home before firmly shutting the door. Literally... and figuratively, on the less than pure thoughts I was having. No fucking way in hell..

I slid my shoes off and set them in my closet. I'd been ready for a panic attack as soon as no one was watching, yet strangely the idea of those two moving around my sanctuary looking at the things that made me happy, didn't scare me as much as it always had; the look in Marius and Ian's eyes as they'd glanced around my home hadn't been disdainful, only curious and interested, as if they genuinely wanted to learn more...about me.

Grabbing a pair of pajama bottoms and a Tom Petty band shirt I went over to my bed and set them down. Halfway through taking my shirt off I felt it, that warmth flowing over my skin heralding the unexpected entrance of one golden eyed god. I froze, even more uncertain in my revealed state, because another piece of me had just been discovered. My back was towards the door, so Marius had a very clear view of my secret. My ink.

From the moment I opened my eyes in the hospital and saw the scars covering my body, I'd felt weak. The proof of my defenselessness was there for everyone to see, every line and jagged tear showed I was pretty much helpless. After I'd ran, it took a few months for me to get up the courage and push my anxiety aside to step into a tattoo parlor. But once the first line was drawn into my flesh, the first swirl of ink etched into my raw form, I felt like something was lifted off of my shoulders, some weight that had settled there when Mr. Crasdel took me. I'm slowly becoming a work of art, my body art revealing my soul a puzzle piece at a time. Now, standing here shirtless, one of my biggest secrets was out. I turned towards the first person to ever see my ink besides the artist and found Marius with a look I'd not seen on his face yet. He looked...speechless. Gobsmacked, never thought I'd use that word but at this moment he looked like he'd been hit in the face with a brick, his thoughts leaking out the cracks and leaving him with no words. Just those burning eyes roaming across my exposed skin, their path heating my flesh like he'd touched me. And a moment later, he did. His fingertips just barely stroking down the center of my spine, causing a shiver down said spine and a gasp to pour from my lips. But for some reason I didn't pull away. I tried to imagine my art from an outside view. Starting at the bottom of my back a giant tree grew upwards, it's gnarled branches reaching to my shoulders, slowly morphing into feathered wings that ended in points at my elbows. That's all you saw at first, but then..it became clear. The dying tree was twisted, it's branches only sprouting a few leaves but upon closer inspection you notice the rest. My favorite books are propped in those branches, the titles across the frayed covers. Dreamcatchers appear to twirl and stars shine between the lines. Suns, moons, planets, and other random things sit against this tree or hang from the branches. The names are harder to see but they are there, hiding in plain sight. Family names engraved right alongside favorite characters, all blended together, the people who mean the most to her, real and fictional.