You had always wanted to get a tattoo but you never muddled up the courage to actually get one.
“Babe, it would be so cute” Michael pleaded to you.
“No, you know I can’t,” you said back; not lifting your eyes to look at him. You were on your phone and he scooted closer.
“And why is that?” he said tilting his head.
This wasn’t the first conversation you had about getting matching tattoo’s so he already knew your answer. You looked up at him and slouched your shoulders and tilted your head to say ‘you know why.’
“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he said.
“You know how deathly afraid I am of needles, I would have a small tattoo hidden away if I weren’t so scared,” you just said.
“Babe, it’s not even bad, just don’t look while he’s doing it,” he just said.
“Yeah but what about my mom and dad, if they found out they would kill me! And my friends they already don’t like you and I don’t want to give them another reason.” You just looked at him. He seemed slightly hurt by your friends not accepting him for who he is.
“Babe, it doesn’t matter what my friends think of you, it’s what I think of you, and I wouldn’t want you to ever change.” You continued and looked up at you.
“Exactly! You just said it yourself… It doesn’t matter what other people think of your tattoo, it’s what you think and that’s all that matters.” He said with confidence in his voice. You had basically dug yourself into a hole. You sat back and sighed.
“It doesn’t change the fact like I’m actually scared of the needles,” you just said.
“It’s temporary pain, physical pain. It goes away,” he put his hand on your thigh.
“Please” he continued to beg.
“Ugh, Fine!” you had agreed to him but immediately knew that you couldn’t back out. You weren’t going to be able to get yourself out of this one. Michael squealed and brought you into a bear hug.
"I love youuu" he said happiness in his mouth.
"I love you too," you said thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
