The Lure of Adventure

You Must Love Me (NSFW content)

My eyes are closed, my breaths are deep and blissful. My cheek is stuck to the skin of his chest, my right arm draped over his ribs, his arm around my shoulders. In this past week that we'd been officially together, this was all I really wanted; was to be as close as possible, just laying with each other in silence. 

The time we spent in the hammock at Dolfrey's was as close as we'd gotten before now. I lay here in complete bliss, soaking up in the tranquil feeling over us. Everything is dying down and growing quieter as the Sisters work hard to herd all the kids back inside to get ready for bed. We probably have another fifteen minutes before someone notices we're gone.

I honestly expected to feel much more awkward about everything, but surprisingly, I don't... I mean, there is the strange, shameful feeling in my heart, but that's just me overthinking everything as usual. Other than that, there is surprising amount of pride and confidence.

I did this. Holy crap I finally did this. 

Honestly, it didn't go the way I imagined nor expected. I came up here with some loose idea of how it'd happen, how it'd feel, and what I'd feel afterward, but the actual result is so different. It got my mind running, thinking up all the other forbidden things I could now do, knowing that none of them could come close to what I had already experienced. 

"Whatcha thinkin'?" Sam asks after a long silence. 

I think in silence for a bit before responding. 

"I want a tattoo." I blurt out, my tone thoughtful.

He laughs, the sound rumbles in his chest. "Okay, sure."

"No, I'm serious." I insist, sitting up at little bit to rest my chin on his chest, looking him in the eyes. "I want to get one."

He shakes his head, sighing in amusement. "And how exactly are you planning on getting one?"

I shrug, "I don't know... How do you usually get them done?"

"There's two ways of doing it... One being, you go to a shop and pay someone to do it professionally, and do a nice job while they're at it. The other is the prison method."

"What's that?"

"The stick and poke method. It's where you take a needle and some pen ink and poke the ink into your skin yourself. However, those types of tattoos don't age well, and are more likely to get infected... And probably kill you."

"But at least you could die with some cool art on your skin, right?" 

He sighs, tilting his head back further to look up at the darkening sky. "I s'pose that's one way of looking at it. If you did get one, what would it even be?"

"I don't know... What's the most cliche, obvious options?"

He chuckles, rolling his eyes. I watch him in fascination as he thinks. "Most people get something super basic like a rose, a quote, a heart... A bird..."

I perk up a bit to this. "Birds?"

He shrugs. "Yeah... Swallows or doves, usually."

"I want birds." 

His eyes flicker down to meet my gaze and he searches them to see how serious I am. A big, childlike grin spreads across my face as the idea sinks in. "I want birds... Three of them, maybe four... Little ones, though... Right here below my collarbone." 

I pat the space of exposed skin on my chest, drawing his eyes to it, then back to my face. His brow is pinched together like he's trying to decide whether to just go with it, or to be the mature one and tell me no. 

"And..." I hum, idling in sheepish hesitation, my eyes fixed on my fingertip dragging down his sternum, leaving a trail of gooseflesh behind it. "I want you to do it for me."