Elizabella 'Ella' Adams had the perfect life on paper: caring family, stable job and a serious relationship. But sometimes moments come along in life which make you question whether what's on paper is enough for the heart. Sometimes people can come...
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After allowing myself to be well distracted by Theo, I lay there with him a little longer and we let ourselves divulge in our little escape from reality. We both rest on our sides, face-to-face, his hand on my hip as he freely glides his thumb over the dips in my contours or thighs that drives me insane each time I see them in a mirror. It seems so silly, being so insecure about this little area of skin when clearly it means little to him and yet I'm conditioned to think so. I envy how he can look at it without thinking that about how it's not perfect like all the others you see on social media, or how it will show through a fitted dress.
To distract myself, I run my fingers run across the skin of his lower ribs, tracing the words which span across the area in a small cursive font. Yes, I had seen Theo shirtless on numerous occasions by now, but I've never been in this position where I was able to stop for a moment and truly take in the sight. We were always moving through things so chaotically so I've never had the chance.
I think back to when I had once snuck a glance of him at work getting dressed for his photoshoot. I had noticed the tattoo but only barely as it was a blur from where I had stood and with the curtain between us.
Even then I had already begun denying my attraction to him and now, after having given into the physical attraction, it seems I have only just succumb to the attraction that would exist on so many other levels. To think how far we had come from that moment. That girl from months ago, who was completely naive to the whirlwind of things that could happen in such a short period of time could never have imagined that I'd be lying here in bed with him right now, let alone naked.
I never really would have thought that Theo would be the type to have a tattoo. He seems so . . . polished? I don't know if that's the right word, because I don't believe a tattoo makes someone unpolished. I just suppose that sometimes Theo has the aura like he was an English gentleman from another time, maybe from the 1920s or so, that possesses a degree of class and timelessness. I guess tattoos just don't really fit with that timeline or vision.
I guess that's the point of his chosen tattoo, it isn't very obvious. It's a part of him he keeps underneath the layers to himself, for himself.
"To be kind to all, to like many and love a few, to be needed and wanted by those we love, is certainly the nearest we can come to happiness." I read, reciting the words that must be so sacred that he has etched them into his skin for eternity.
"I know, it's cheesy."
He looks down, abashed, and it is then I realise that perhaps he is not so immune to the worries of judgement or concerns of imperfection when it comes to his appearance either.
"It's not. It's beautiful." I assure him, shaking my head firmly as I smile at the words and continue to run my fingers over them. "But, can I ask what made you get it?" I tear my gaze away from the tattoo for a moment to take in his expression as he looks down at the words wistfully.
