Housemates (boyxboy)

Chapter 13

Rain pattered lightly on the windshield of Zion's car and the wipers squeaked each time they moved across the window. He apologized for the noise and called it an annoyance, but I hadn't thought of it that way. He had music playing that blocked out the sound, at least for me, but the songs were strange and unexpected. Thinking about it though, I should've expected it with how mysterious and hard to read he was. I just hadn't pegged him as someone who'd bump old-school Timbaland and Justin Timberlake on his stereo.

Well, he wasn't one to speak very often, so it wasn't odd when he didn't make any attempt at small talk along the way. I didn't mind it though. Comfortable silence was often better than forced chatter.

Pulling into a small parking lot with limited spaces in front of a shop labeled as Tattoo, Zion grabbed a hair tie from the cup holder beside him and placed it between his teeth as he pulled his long hair back into a bun.

He eyed me sideways as he took the elastic from his mouth and tied it in his hair and I shifted my eyes away. I hadn't meant to stare.

Sighing, he turned off his car and waited for me to climb out before walking into the shop without a word. I followed him inside and glanced around at the many paintings hung on the yellow wall that spanned the entire shop. Photos of satisfied customers were strung along a piece of thread and I observed the tattoos they'd received from the workers here.

The creations were bizarre yet mesmerizing all in their own rights, and those behind the inked needle were truly artists whose passion shined through their work. An old photograph of Zion caught my eye and an accidental puff of laughter escaped my mouth. He turned to me with a single eyebrow raised and shook his head upon the realization of the photo I'd discovered. He expressed a sight of disdain and getting a closer look at the picture, I recognized the woman next to him to be Annika—his sister.

"I see I've neglected to take that photo down," Zion said, walking over to me.

"What do you mean?" I questioned as he reached his arm across my chest, tugging the picture down in his hand.

I wasn't sure what made me think he was going to answer that question, so I shouldn't have been surprised when he dropped the photograph into the trash bin without a word. Yet another secret ensued between Zion and the rest of us as he never shared details of what he was going through. I knew better than to keep questioning him at the moment though and followed him to his workspace where he greeted an eager customer.

The exchange was intriguing in the fact that the man waiting to be inked had a slight smirk spread on his lips and Zion released another sigh.

"I told you I'd be coming," the customer said to Zion.

"I hope you're not making this more than it has to be, Richard," Zion said, his tone sharp.

The man whose smile faded crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm not."

From their brief conversation, I was able to conclude that Richard had probably been one of Zion's recent hook-ups. And from the looks of things, he wasn't quite over Zion despite the fact he should've been.

Well, Zion made no effort to continue the conversation and glanced at the reference photo Richard had brought with him. I watched as Zion slowly began to work on Richard's tattoo in which he wanted inked on his chest and admired his ability.

"Think you can handle it?" Zion asked after a brief period of silence. It almost startled me and he kept his attention on Richard's chest.

"I'm not an artist," I said.

"No shit," Zion replied. "Think you can handle getting a tattoo?"

"Oh," I said. "Probably if I had an idea of what I even wanted."

"Hmm," Zion said. "I drew something a while back that I think would suit you."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'll show you when I'm done here," he said and spent the rest of the hour in silence as he concentrated on Richard's tattoo.

When he was finished, Richard rose from the chair and awkwardly waited in front of Zion without moving. I felt as if he wanted to say something but my presence seemed to be halting him.

"What is it?" Zion asked sharply.

"Are you busy tonight?" Richard questioned, picking at his finger nails in nervous habit.

"No," Zion said. "But I'm not looking for anything to do."

"So you're-"

"I'm done hooking up with people," Zion said.

"Have you found someone you're interested in?" Richard asked.

"Perhaps," Zion replied vaguely. "But it doesn't concern you."

"Is it him?" Richard said, pointing a finger at me.

Zion's eyes met mine briefly and I swore my heart stopped.

"No," Zion said, turning his head to look at Richard again. "You should leave."

Richard's eyes found the floor as he muttered an awkward thanks before walking out of the store.

Zion hadn't spoken since Richard left and I found it strange that he was seemingly interested in someone yet showed no signs or ever spoke about them.

"Hey," I said as Zion was busy cleaning.

"Hmm?" he asked without looking at me.

"Is it true?" I said. "You know, that you've found someone you like?"

Zion stopped cleaning and turned to me. "It doesn't quite matter."

I narrowed my eyes. "How so?"

Zion brushed a loose strand of hair away from his eye before replying. "He doesn't feel the same way."

"You know that for sure?" I asked.

"I can tell by his eyes," Zion said. "The way he looks at me is completely different than the way I look at him."

"Oh," I said. "That's upsetting."

"It's alright," he said and when I didn't reply, he decided to.

"I'm used to it."

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