Not Broken, Just Bruised

[17]

"my atoms love your atoms. it's chemistry."
- atticus

•

I had messaged Ian earlier this morning, asking if I could spend some time at his house.
I never gave him a reason why and yet he didn't question it - telling me he'd pick me up.

He's a blessing in disguise, really.
After 2 years of hiding away - everybody knew I deserved to move on, Matt deserved to see me move on.
I hope he's happy for me.

A car pulls up in front of Amy's house, one hit to the horn and someone shouting-
"Ivy!"
Indicates that it's definitely Ian.

I laugh, hustling over to his car.

"Get in."
His face is beaming, a wide smile spread across his face.

"What's made you so happy?"
I tease, reaching for the seatbelt behind me.

Many ask how I was able to overcome my fear of cars. After all that happened with the accident - you think that I'd prevent myself from ever getting into a vehicle ever again.

But something I've learned in life is that hiding away from every demon that haunts you is pointless.
And that's a lot coming from me..

"Nothing in particular."
Ian says, finally speaking up.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm coming over again."
I sigh, looking out at the view that passes by us.

Truthfully, I wanted to go back to Ian's house.
The time I spent there was so comforting, and although a bit scary with all of the emotions, I liked it.
What I don't know is how Ian feels about it all.

———————

Ian's house is practically in the same condition it was when I left yesterday morning, the blankets and pillows still in the same place I slept with them in.

"You don't sit on your couch?"
I giggle, gesturing towards the living room.

He laughs.
"Honestly, no. I spend most of my time in my room."

We look at the stairs simultaneously, the same thought running through both of our minds.

"Can I see it?"
I whisper.
"Your room, I mean."

He doesn't respond, instead quickly hustling up the stairs - ushering me to follow.
I comply, walking up the stairs as fast as possible without falling over.

"It's the only bedroom, so it isn't hard to miss."
He mumbles, nudging at the door.
It opens easily, seeing as it wasn't closed all of the way.

"Don't mind the mess."

I pan my eyes around the room, taking it all in.
Like downstairs - the design of his bedroom is far from what I thought it would be.

His walls are light grey, multiple black and white posters hung up on the wall - that surprisingly look really good.
His bed has plain black blankets, and pillows, with a long decorative patterned one - that matches the rug beside his bed.
And other than a dresser and a couple of random things here and there - that's it.

It's.. nice.

"Wow."
Is all that I can manage to say.

"You like it?"
Ian grins, walking further into the room as he sits down on his bed.

"I do. It's well put together."
I smile back, swaying side to side.

Like usual, our conversation fades into silence.
But it's the same comfortable silence that I'm okay to be in.
It leaves me time to think - wether that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Right now I'm thinking about how much different I've been since I met Ian. And I mean that in a good way.
My thoughts are no longer protruding, and I feel much more at ease. As if life has given me a little break..

"So, I was thinking we went out and did something today?"
Ian says, breaking through the silent atmosphere.

"Like what?"

"Do you have any tattoos?"
He whispers.

"No."
I whisper back, mocking him.

He chuckles, lifting his pant leg up, showing 3 large tattoos spaced out evenly.
In order from top to bottom, there's a dagger, a vine and a small, dainty rose.

"Those are pretty. Do they have meanings?"

"Not really, nothing from my personal life at least."
He traces his fingers over them - explaining what they all mean to him.
"The dagger is for all of the times I was hurting, when it felt like a knife was wrenched through my heart."

I suck in a breath.
That's deep.

"The vine symbolizes when life got me all tied up, when I felt trapped. And the rose.."
He pauses, lifting his head to make eye contact with me.
"..the rose is meant for my soulmate. It signifies love and it's beauty - like the beautiful flower a rose is."

Holy crap.
I didn't know this boy was such a charmer.
I mean, my heart is literally thumping..

"It's a bit cheesy, but I was hoping the right woman would come along and get a matching tattoo to go with it."
He smirks, letting go of his pant leg as it falls back into place.

Why is he staring at me?

Without another word, he stands up from the bed - walking in my direction.

Why is it that every time I'm over, I get caught in the same place?
He says something, my heart starts pounding - and he walks towards me seductively, if I may say so.

"I was thinking we could go and get you a tattoo."
His eye contact and close proximity send me into a daze.

"My first tattoo."
I say awkwardly, placing a finger in between him and I.

"Your first tattoo."
He hums back.

Should I be scared? Or worried? Or maybe even turned on?
I don't know.
I've had a boyfriend, many in-fact, but that was 2 years ago. After Matt, I never dated again.
I've lost all of my romantic abilities.

"I-I suppose."
I trip over my words, starting to pick at my finger nails as a calming method.
I've done it since I was 9.

But almost instantly, another pair of hands place on top of mine, stopping me from doing so.

"You shouldn't do that. It'll ruin them."

I tilt my head upwards, meeting Ian's eyes that are even closer than before.

"Come on. Let's get you that tattoo."
Ian pries open my closed fist, interlacing his fingers with mine.

Fuck.