Curveball [BL]

8 || Juda

Day after day, week after week - it all goes by quickly. Everything blurs into one for Juda. Baseball, school, more baseball, sleep, eat if he remembers. And if he has the time, Carmen and Nico.

He always has the time.

The only thing he notices changing is the weather. It's still hot, unbearably so, but he doesn't feel like passing out in the batting cages anymore. If he's lucky, there's even a gentle breeze. He's still in desperate need for sun block, but he feels the weather growing cooler each day.

"How's that looking?" The pain in his arm and buzzing noise stops all at once. Juda didn't realize how used to the buzz he got until the room grows silent. He can hear his own breath, quiet and gentle, unfazed from the constant pricking in his arm.

A towel drags down his forearm, pulling all the excess ink with it before revealing the detailed sun underneath. His skin's red and already looking inflamed, but there's a new addition now. The sun joining all his other tattoos bleeding up his arm.

He thinks a sun's fitting. For how much he fucking stands under the smoldering heat, it fits right in. He's starting to fear it a little, his mom's constant worries of him developing skin cancer rubbing off on him.

"It looks great," he tells her. But it's not what he came here for. Not what he waited months to get an appointment for. Sitting beside the sun, larger and taking up more of arm, sits his late dog. His gaze lingers on her eyes, seeing them glitter with happiness.

It's exactly the same as the picture he showed her. So exact, he almost frowns. "Looks great," he repeats, because he doesn't know what else to say. She passed only the beginning of this year, after nineteen long ones. They grew up together. Except now she's dead and buried in his parents' backyard.

Ginger rolls back in her stool and nods her chin at Nico and Carmen. "You guys can check it out now." She's already cleaning up, giving the three of them space.

"Shit- it looks just like her," Nico marvels. "I bet your mom's gonna love it."

Carmen hangs back warily, still cautious around the fresh tattoo. The entire two hours they waited, his eyes were glued to his phone, desperate not to see the needles puncturing Juda's skin over and over. If Juda knew he was so bad with needles, he maybe would've told Carmen to stay back at the dorms.

But he's also a greedy son of a bitch, so maybe not.

Carmen looks like he's not sure if he should frown or smile. He settles for a dimmed smile, "Looks good."

Juda flexes his arm, stares at the tattoo, and misses her a little more than usual. Maybe he'll text his mom to throw some chicken on her grave. It was always her favorite. "Thank you," his eyes shift towards them, "for the gift. It means a lot."