My head was laid back against the headboard as the needle was injected into my skin over and over again. I let out a sigh and turned my head to see Stiles standing up from the ground. "Feeling better, bud?" I laughed. Stiles rolled his eyes and stumbled his way towards me. "How can you— oh my god. Your brothers are going to kill you," Stiles spoke. I furrowed my eyebrows, "Why didn't you say my dad?" "Because your dad is not even going to give two craps." I chuckled as I turned to Scott, "And how would you know that?" "Because you're most likely not even gonna show him," Stiles finished. I pursed my lips, "Maybe, maybe not, but it's not like Jacob is going to snap a picture and send it to my dad."
As if on cue, a snap was heard in the building. I groaned and looked to my older brother who was standing with his phone horizontally. I gave him the middle finger, "Take a picture of this, why don't ya?" Jacob laughed, "That's definitely good blackmail usage." I rolled my eyes, Stiles and Scott laughing at my brother. "I hate you so much, J," I shook my head. Jacob snorted, "Yeah, right. Hey, Scott, sure you don't want something like this?" My Brother was holding up a tattoo booklet, and was showing a picture that looked similar to a kanima.
Scott gave him an 'Are you kidding me?' look as he took a seat on the chair beside me. My tattooist scooted up his chair so Scott's guy could have room to sit. "Too soon? Yeah," Jacob said as he put down the book. "I don't know, man, are you sure about this? I mean, these things are pretty permanent, you know?" Stiles asked Scott. Scott shook his head, "I'm not changing my mind." "Okay, but why two bands?" Jacob asked with a confused expression. "I just like it," Scott answered simply. "But don't you think your first tattoo should have some sort of meaning, you know, or something?" Jacob asked as he waved his hands in circles.
"Getting a tattoo means something," I spoke. My tattooist put a cream on my tattoo then wrapped it up. He handed me a tube of cream to put on it for the first couple of days until it heals completely. I stood out of my chair and paid for the tattoo. "I don't think that's..." Scott's tattooist interrupted Stiles, "He's right, tattooing goes back thousands of years. The tahitian word "tatua" means "to leave a mark." Like a rite of passage." "Yeah, you see? He gets it," I laughed. "He's covered in tattoos, Adds, literally," Jacob said. "Okay, you ready? You ain't got any problems with needles, do you?" The tattooist asked Scott.
"Nope," Scott shook his head. Stiles itched his chin as he went to take a look at Scott's arm as the tattooist began to ink it, "I tend to get a little squeamish though, so..." I laughed as I watched Stiles fall to the ground unconscious once again.
☓☓☓
The four of us settled in Stiles' Jeep once Scott had finished. Jacob and I sat in the back whilst Stiles was in the driver seat and Scott in the passengers. "You okay?" Stiles asked as he held a ice bag against his head. "Kinda burns," Scott said as he glared down at the wrapping. "Yes, you just had your skin stabbed about 100,000 times with a needle," Jacob rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but I don't think it's supposed to feel like this," Scott shook his head. "Oh, God," I groaned. Scott suddenly thrusted up, "No, it's definitely not supposed to feel like this. Oh, I gotta take this thing off." "No, no, no, no, Scott. Oh, Scott, please stop," Stiles and my brother panicked as Scott unraveled the wrapping. "Whoa, whoa," Stiles said as we watched it dissolve into his skin. "Oh, no, what? No, no, come on. It healed," Scott groaned. "Ah, thank God. I hated it," Stiles said as he started the car. He looked to Scott who was giving him a death glare. "Sorry."
Adelaide's Tattoo
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