All I Ever Wanted

Chapter 8

The second the needle pierces my skin, I fight the urge to cry out as pain begins to fill my arm. I don't know how he did it, but when Klay was sitting here moments before, he had made this entire process seem like it was a piece of cake. Now that I am the one in the chair, I know that it is anything but.

My eyes shut and I take in a deep breath as I try to tolerate the pain, but it isn't working. I know that in a few seconds I'm going to cry.

A warm strong hand grasping my own causes my eyes to fly open, and when I turn my head to the right, Klay is looking down at me with a small smirk on his face. 

"Some things still haven't changed," he comments, and I manage to scowl at him before sighing and intertwining our fingers.

"Not true," I mumble as I close my eyes, but this time not because of the pain. It's just too hard to look into those dark brown orbs. 

A low chuckle escapes his lips. 

"I clearly remember racing you at the park, you tripping over a tree branch and skidding on a bunch of rocks. I had to take you to the doctor, and they gave you a shot, remember?" 

Just as I open my mouth to respond, he continues, "And I remember you clutching on to my arm and being adamant that you were fine and you didn't need it. That appointment took an hour and a half because he spent most of the time trying to get you to sit still."

"What's your point?" I ask sourly, and he laughs. The sound causes my heart to do a flip.

"The point, dear Logan, is that you don't handle pain well."

Anger flares up inside of me. "I don't handle pain well? Really? Try being in a car accident, feeling pain in literally every inch of your body, and waking up to find out that you are all alone because your family died. Trust me, I handle pain very well."

His grip on my hand tightens and I can feel his body tense as he remains silent, and from beside me, the tattoo artist clears his throat. It's clear that he is uncomfortable with where this conversation is going.

The rest of the session is quiet, save for the sound of the needle. Great, I made a completely fun outing awkward now, and after everything that he has done for me... I feel like the biggest ass.

When the artist tells me that I am done, I get up from the chair and make my way over to the wall length mirror, and the artwork on my forearm that stares back at me brings tears to my eyes.

The long raised pink skin is now lost among various feathers of a pair of angel wings, and above the wings are the words 'Rise Above All'. It's so breathtaking that I want to display it to the world. Something this amazing doesn't deserve to be covered up.

Silent tears trail down my cheeks, and through my blurry vision I can see the artist standing behind me in the mirror with a smile on his face. "I'm glad you like it."

Wiping my eyes, I turn around to face him and return his smile. "I love it. I can't thank you enough."

He holds up his hands and shakes his head. "Don't thank me, thank Klay. You're all he has ever talked to me about, and I can see that you mean the world to him."

My heart begins to hurt in my chest. He talked about me? But I can't be his world. He has Desiree.

Searching the room, I realize that Klay is nowhere to be found. "Where did he go?"

The artist begins to clean up his workspace. "He left. Said to tell you he'd be in the car."

Just as I reach to get my wallet, the artist laughs. "Don't worry about it. Klay already paid me."