Page 57 of When Fate Breaks
I feel all the blood rush to my face as I shove Blake’s shoulder. “Blake, are you kidding me? What the hell is wrong with you?!” I fume. I yank up the blue sleeve of his t-shirt I'm wearing, ignoring the sting of pain coming from my inner bicep as I twist it to look at the monstrosity Blake has just stamped on my body for life.
“I knew I shouldn’t have–” I start to say, but then stop. Because there is no monstrosity. “What…what is this?” I ask, staring at the two thin lines spanning about two inches across my arm, crossed at the center with letters in each of their four openings, one letter slightly bolder than the others.
I look up at Blake, seeing him chewing on his bottom lip, containing a smile. “It’s a compass,” he says.
“A compass?” I repeat.
“Yeah, a simple one.”
I hold my arm out straight, turning towards the mirror to get a better look. I realize now that the two thin lines are actually arrows crossed in an X. The letters within each of the quadrants are N, E, S, and W. The cardinal directions. The E is a few shades darker and just a little thicker than the other letters, as if it was traced over several times.
“Because I know how much you want to travel and see new things.” My eyes snap up from the tattoo, meeting Blake’s in the reflection of the mirror, my lips parting. “So it’s a compass. To guide you…” He mutters, averting his gaze.
My brows pinch together, my mouth suddenly feeling very dry. “Why…why is the E bolder than the other letters?”
Blake clears his throat. “ForEvangeline. To...to remind you at the end of the day to trust yourself and your instincts when you don’t know what direction to take next. For…you know, when you’re overthinking things.”
My heart feels like a rock in my chest. I blow out a steady breath, staring intently at the tattoo in the mirror.
“Do you like it?” Blake asks. My eyes slowly trail from my arm to his face, my vision blurring as tears well.
“You hate it,” Blake sighs, removing his baseball cap to run a hand through his hair. “You’re pissed. God, I’m sorry, Evangeline–”
“I love it.”
“What?”
“I fuckingloveit,” I breathe.
“You do?” Blake questions, his coloring somewhat returning to normal.
I nod. “Iampissed though because you told me to give you the first thing I thought of when you’d planned this deep sentimental ass masterpiece.” I glower, punching him unintentionally in his newly tattooed bicep.
“Ouch,” he grunts, clutching his arm.
“You deserved that,” I say, turning back to the mirror to admire my tattoo once again. “Thank you though, really. It’s amazing.” I feel a tear finally spill over as I look back at Blake. “I can’t believe I just gave you a freaking–”
“Un-uh!Nope, shush,” Blake cuts me off, clamping a hand over my mouth. “I want to be surprised.”
“Fine, look for yourself,” I mumble behind his hand.
Blake drops his hand, turning towards the mirror to peel back his sleeve. His brow furrows momentarily before a smile pulls at his lips. “Is this…a plant sprout?” he asks, glancing at my frowning face.
Another singular tear spills over as I nod. I look at the tattooed thin stem with short roots coming out of the bottom and two small leaves shooting off its sides. “I gave you a freaking plant sprout. I’m sorry. It’s so–”
“Perfect.”
“What? But you put so much thought–”
“It’s perfect, Evangeline,” he rolls his sleeve back down. “Because you picked it.” I meet his gaze and he doesn’t look away. “I love it. Okay?”
My back straightens. “Okay.”
Silence stretches on for several moments, the air becoming thicker the longer our gazes hold. Blake opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something and we both jump, the loudest crack of thunder I’ve ever heard rattling the entire tattoo studio.
“Shit,” he says as a torrential downpour of rain starts pounding against the windows.
“Damn, it’s coming down hard!” Carlos whistles from his station.
