The Heart Wants What It Wants: The Sequel

7

The next morning when she woke, she checked her phone first thing.  She was disappointed to find that the image she'd sent last night was marked as "read" without a reply.

Torn on whether or not to text him again, to stop by the shop or not, she took her phone with her into the bathroom and put on some music as she showered.

While she was lathering a text tone interrupted the music. She hurried to rinse and get out, and dripped onto the floor as she reached for her phone.

It was from James.  Her heart sped as she opened and read it.  But his reply was disappointing.

Didn't see this till late...context?

It was at least a reply and she answered immediately, typing with damp fingers.

Would you do something like this for me?

She waited, staring at her screen for the typing to display. Instead her phone began ringing. She answered, trying to keep her voice neutral.

"Hey."

"Morning," he replied, his voice sounding sleepy as though he'd just woken up not very long ago.

The thought cheered her slightly, knowing he had answered her back as one of the first things he'd done today. And that was how it was, every little thing either giving her hope or taking some away like she was stuck on some rollercoaster of emotions - analyzing every single detail for a sign.  Even though I don't know what the hell I want, she thought.

"If I wanted that tattoo I sent you, would you do that for me?"

"No," he answered evenly, and as she stood there - still naked and wet from her shower - her heart plummeted again.

"Okay, I-"

"Not that one exactly. You should have an original piece, not a copy. I'd work up something similar with your modifications."

She was relieved but wondered if he was simply speaking to her as he would a client.

"You're busy for a couple of months, I realize."

"I can come in an hour early or stay an hour over.  Are you certain you want me doing it?  It's permanent," he paused, a few seconds of silence hanging heavy on the line.  "Every time you look at your arm you'll be reminded of me.  It's not generally a good idea to..."  He trailed off, unwilling to say what she already understood to be his meaning.  "I'm just saying, it could be a bad reminder someday."

"You will never be a bad reminder, no matter what happens."

"Fair enough," he replied, his tone giving nothing away.  "How long have you been considering this?  Is it a spur of the moment whim or something?"

"We talked about this before, remember?  I just forgot about it until recently."

"Guess you were a little preoccupied before," he added knowingly.

"I'm ready and I'd like you to do it."

There was a brief pause, and his tone shifted a little.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"I'm completely serious."

"You're good with seeing my ink on you for the rest of your life?"

"You're inked in on other places too, you just can't see it.  It's a bit of a moot point about my arm."

Another pause.

"When do you want to start?  I'd need to get your input on some ideas to make this more your own and we'd have to do this in segments.  Sleeves are a process."

"I know how it works.  I've seen you do plenty."

"Yeah, you have, haven't you."

There was silence on the other line for a moment, increasing her worry. 

"If you don't want to do it, you don't have to."

"I don't mind doing it, Hermione."

"Something's giving you hesitation."

"I just hope you're doing this for the right reasons."

"What would the wrong reason be, just out of curiousity?"

"To talk, to spend time with me.  You don't have to get permanent ink to spend time with me."

"You know I want to spend time with you, but I also want this.  And it doesn't feel like you want to spend time with me."

She could hear his sigh.

"I thought you understood about me needing time."

"I know you need time...I need time too.  I'm not talking about having sex again, James.  I thought...I thought you still wanted...I guess I may have misread things on your end.  I'm sorry.  I'm gonna go."

He started to say something but she hung up, too upset to hear another word. 

She was relieved when he didn't call back.  She dressed and got ready, heading out to try and get her mind off the stress that was getting a little intense. 

Fresh air is what I need, she thought as she headed out to do a little shopping.  It was a beautiful day and she needed to remember that life was going to go on, one way or another.