Fly High | ✅

27 | Tramp stamp

◈A D R I A N◈

"All done," Ari tapped on my shoulders and pulled off the gloves to dispose it into the wastebasket. I gave a jerky nod and wiped my sweaty forehead with the back of my hand.

Damon perked up from his seat and strode to stand behind of me. He let out a low whistle and grinned, "Nice work, Ari! Haven't lost your touch, huh?"

Ari smiled wryly and wriggled her fingers, "Yep, still got the Midas' touch."

While the two of them exchange banters as if they hadn't had a row just minutes ago, I smoothed out the wrinkles of my shirt from having been in my death grip for the past thirty minutes.

Every minute was agony as I felt the needle lightly grazed my spine, ejecting foreign pigments into my skin.

Damon was a liar.

And I was a fool who fell for his honeyed words.

Damon squeezed my shoulders and beamed at me. He looked as proud as a mama tiger at her cub's first kill. "You're officially part of the pack now, Adrian."

I smiled weakly, still a little limp from my frazzled nerves. Looking around the room for a mirror, I straightened my back only to wince when my irritated skin pulled.

Damon noticed and pushed on my shoulders, "Careful, don't make any big movements."

"I—I just want to see what it looks like," I reasoned, curiosity growing restless in my heart. I wanted to know why Ari reacted such ways.

Damon's lips was set in a grim line before a smile slid in place with practiced ease when he saw me staring. "It looks wicked. Don't worry," he reassured and slowly helped me to my feet.

I frowned, not understanding his reluctance to show me the pack tattoo he was so proud of.

Maybe something bad happened.

Maybe Ari has shaky hands, I blanched at the thought. Regret was starting to spill over like an overfilled bathtub, filling my heart with dread.

"We need to go now. Can't be late for the pack meeting," Damon spoke, pulling me out of my reverie.

I followed him out of the room, passed the long stretch of dim hallway and through the gear door. Ari was already out, leaning against a brick wall with a lit cigarette between her matte lips.

"You coming?" Damon asked her. She gave a slight shrug and shook her head, wisp of smoke curled like a misty snake.

In a flash, Damon closed the distance and slammed his lips on hers, their tongues in a sensual battle. My eyes widened at the sudden erotic display, unable to catch the drift between them.

If Jenna was his hot wings, what does it make of Ari? Buffalo wings?

They broke the kiss soon without a word of affection. Ari turned her head sideways, avoiding my stare while Damon strode past me, leaving me dumbfounded.

"We're late, Adrian," he called out. His stern tone put my feet in motion as I hurried after him. We backtracked to the park and found the usual scene.

Thomas and Charlie in their usual headlock, Zax with his brooding moods and the silent ones. The ones who seemed to be mute and creepy, with their eyes tracking your every moves.

And Jenna.

Speaking of the devil, she sensed Damon and perked up like an obedient puppy. She prattled towards us and threw herself onto Damon, nearly sending both of them rolling on muddy grounds.