Saviors (Completed)

14. Bad Boy Tattoo

He had pulled me all around town, making me eat weird things, drink blue drinks and now we stood in front of a tattoo shop. He looked smirking up at its boring white fond, holding my hand firmly. 

"What are we doing here?" I asked, even though the answer were written all over his face. 

"Getting a tattoo of course," he answered and opened up the doors for us to be greeted with pictures of every kind of tattoos, ugly purple walls, and black chairs and tables. Behind the black desk, a tattooed man with a nose piercing stood and chewed his gum, looking tiredly at us.

"What can I do for you today, Anthony?" the man asked, his lip curving into something there was suppose to look like a smile.  

"Just getting a new tattoo," Anthony answered, dragging me over to the desk with him. 

Ted smoothed back his thinning hair and licked his cracked lips. "And the girl?" he asked, nodding towards me. 

"She'll pick it," Anthony said, winking down at me, before returning to look at Ted. Anthony's arms twirled around my waist, pulling me into him. As I felt his warmth up against my own body, the vomit I had held in later was on its way up. 

I really needed another painkiller, since something danced on my scalp, making sure everything around me would be hard to focus on. 

"Follow me," Ted said, signaling for us to follow him into a new room in the back, where a black chair was placed together with another chair for the tattooer. 

"So, what should he get," Ted asked, handing me a few pictures with different designs. I didn't take them, I just looked down on his hand, not liking the idea of me picking a tattoo for Anthony and definitely not when I should be in school. 

Somewhere deep in my mind I already had a picture of the tattoo I would like to have printed on Anthony's shoulder. It should be three birds placed on his left shoulder blade. They should twirl around each other, representing the other side of him. The good side. 

"Do three birds on his left shoulder blade, like that one up there," I said, pointing at a picture there hung on the wall. Ted followed my finger, glancing up at the picture too. His lips widened and he looked back at an amused Anthony. 

"Okay, off with the shirt," Ted said, preparing himself for his job. 

Anthony threw his shirt over his head. He was half shadow, every muscle on his torso flowing from the light into the dark. He was a living work of art, his brown skin so tempting to touch; every move giving away his strength.

I was something taken out from a movie. And here I thought he couldn't get any hotter. 

He laid down on his stomach, preparing himself for the new drawing on his skin. 

Ted began his work, while I stood and stared at the scene before me. My hands were tucked into my chest and my arms slightly shaking.

He didn't flinch as the needle scared his marvelous body forever, he laid with his smirk plastered on his face, hiding his real emotions. Ted worked with and admirable form of grace. Every time he would put the needle against Anthony's skin, he would bite his lip a little harder, narrowing his eyebrows into full concentration. 

"Finished," Ted said, stepping a little back. I stepped forward, glancing down at the new artwork on Anthony's sculpted body.

The birds were exactly as I had imagined, selfless and cheerful, just like the good side of Anthony, the side even I rejected.

I smiled, "it's beautiful."

Ted wrapped him up, patting him lightly on the back. "She has great taste," he said, shrugging his shoulders as he twirled to pack away his gear. "However, I would like to know why you picked that one, Missy."