Page 38 of The Edge of Never

Kit turned their head up to meet my eyes. Their dark hair was messy, and they were wrinkling their nose in that adorable fucking way of theirs. It had me swallowing hard.

“Just while we’re stuck together, right? We can go back to disliking each other when we get out of this.”

If we get out of this.

There were no guarantees that we would be rescued. Fuck knows how long it would be until I could walk on my ankle without it causing me a lot of pain. I didn’t voice that out loud, though. Kit didn’t need the reminder that our situation wasn’t great.

“Aye.”

They smiled at me. It made their icy blue eyes twinkle.

“Okay, well, ask your question then.”

I hadn’t thought of one yet, but since Kit was staring at me with a face full of expectation, I blurted out the first thing that popped into my head.

“What dae ye dae for work?”

“That might be the most uninspired question ever, but okay.”

“Ye know what I dae.”

They kept smiling at me. It was the same one they’d worn for Callan. The one that annoyed me because they’d never done it for me. Now they were, and it made my chest ache. Fuck, I was a mess. Why did it have to be over Kit, of all people? Surely the world could have sent someone else. But no, it was this mouthy wee thing who gave me whiplash.

“I’m a tattoo artist.”

It took me a minute to respond. Kit didn’t have any visible tattoos that I’d noticed. Not that you had to have them yourself in order to be a tattoo artist or anything. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. They’d surprised me yet again.

“Was that something ye always wanted tae dae?”

“Well, I’ve always drawn stuff, but I kind of fell into it after I started working at reception for a local studio. The owner, Roman, saw my doodles one day and encouraged me to start drawing tattoo designs. Then he offered me an apprenticeship and I guess the rest is history. That was ten years ago. I still work for him now.”

I wondered what styles they favoured and what kind of artist they were.

“Dae ye have any yerself?”

“Tattoos? Um, yeah.” They lifted their hands out of the sleeping bag and showed me their thumbs. “These are the only visible ones I have. Everything else is… under my clothes.”

There was a half-crescent moon at the base of their thumb with wee stars trailing up the side. On the other was the sun with its rays curling up the side.

Before they could take their hands away, I caught them with mine and looked at the tattoos more closely.

Kit stared at me with wide eyes.

“They’re pretty.”

“Roman did them. He’s done all my tattoos. I wouldn’t trust anyone else.”

“Ye must be close.”

They shrugged and tried to tug their hands from my grasp. Without thinking about it, I stroked my thumb down one of their tattoos. Their skin was so fucking soft. Kit felt so delicate, but they were stronger than they looked.

“He’s a good boss and artist… but I guess he’s a friend too. Like not a best friend or anything, though I’m not even sure I have one of those any longer, but a work friend, you know.”

Kit looked away as pain flickered in their eyes. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out that whoever this best friend was they’d alluded to might well be the reason they came on the course.

“What aboot yer other tattoos? Can I see those?”

The way Kit flushed at my words had me suspicious about where they were placed. They hid their face from me a moment later.

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