Alaska (by BeyondxLawliet)

Naamloos deel 10

About one week later Louis was wrapped in sweaters and blankets when he padded down the stairs to make himself a snack, feet clothed in thick socks that slid over the floor when the blue eyed one stepped onto it. It had gotten colder in just a few days, Louis had noticed, remembering how it even had snowed a little the day before. Harry had been rather stressed about it, running in and out of the stable at least twenty times. At first Louis had thought that Mary was having another calf, but then Louis had asked Harry just laughed and shook his head, telling him that he just had to make sure that the animals were warm and comfortable. That had been that, Louis now shivering when he went over to the curly that sat on the floor in front of a lit fireplace, a small bottle of blank ink in front of him. Louis' eyebrows furrowed and he curiously watched him for a few seconds before he sat down next to him, noticing the small needle that was between his fingers.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly, Harry looking up as if Louis had startled him. He then smiled and turned his upper body, showing a tattoo covered arm.

"I'm painting," he said, Louis leaning back a little.

"Painting?" he wondered and Harry nodded, Louis' blue eyes following the needle when Harry dipped it into the bottle of black ink. He swallowed when Harry put the tip to his skin, to an area that was pretty much clean from tattoos and made a line with it, wiping some off with a cloth that Louis hadn't even noticed.

"You can get ink poisoning," he mumbled and pulled on the covers around him, pulling them over his head so only his face was visible.

Harry softly laughed and shook his head, dipping it again. "I'm careful," he said reassuringly, Louis watching when he made another line. It looked painful, Louis thought. Harry made small hissing noises every time.

"...Why are you doing it?" he breathed. "Stop."

"There aren't many tattoo artists around," Harry smiled, wiping some ink off again. He blew a little on the lines that stayed. "This is the best I can do of the situation."
Louis could only glance at him. "I don't like tattoos," he said quietly. "I'll never get one."

"Really?" Harry asked, looking at Louis. He let the needle rest in the ink, wiping his hands with the cloth. His head tilted a little and the curls that were in a ponytail moved a little at the back of his neck and Louis watched them, wondering if they were as soft as they looked. "You don't like mine then?"

"I don't hate them," he mumbled. "They look cool on others, but I wouldn't look good in them."

"You'll never know," Harry said and took the needle again. "How about I give you one? A small one, of course."

"Absolutely and definitely not," Louis said and straightened, shaking his head. "I'd never let you do that."

"Oh," Harry said and pouted, a childish one that Louis could see was fake from even a mile away. He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Make me breakfast, Harry," he said and Harry looked at him, leaving the needle again as he went into the kitchen. Louis nibbled on his lip, hating himself for being too curious about it; reaching for the thin and pointy object that still had some ink on it. He poked the tip and whimpered when it stung him, a minimal drop of blood peeking out through his skin. Louis muttered at it and looked on his forearms, actually wondering what a tattoo would look like on him. Also, what would he get? A quote or something would be boring, wouldn't it? He glanced at Harry before he moved the needle into the bottle again and then to his skin, his right shoulder actually, slowly starting to write. He hissed a little, making a small 'H,' wanting to write 'Home,' but Harry was too quick in the kitchen and returned with a sandwich and a cup of tea, Louis quickly putting the needle back and pushed himself onto the couch. He looked almost frightened and Harry laughed, giving the cup to Louis, a white one with small floral bands around it. Harry often drank from this, Louis remembered.