Page 55 of The List of Things

He keeps his large hand spread over my thigh the entire drive, drawing eager circles over my skin showing me that he might be a bit more anxious than he’s letting on. I think long and hard about what tattoo I want to give Bell. By long and hard I mean as long as it takes us to be parked in front of the tattoo shop he’s chosen.

It’s the middle of the week, and we’re a bit outside of the city so when we walk inside there’s hardly anyone in the shop. I hear the light hum of a tattoo gun and the sound of music. Bellamy takes my hand in his like it’s instinct, and he leads me forward, and up to a large glass counter. Inside are piercings, and jewelry. I look around at the walls, hoping for a very last minute bit of inspiration, something that sparks my interest.

“Are you sure about this?” My eyes continue to scan everything surrounding us.

“One hundred and ten percent sure. I don’t care what you choose, as long as it’s not inappropriate. You can put it anywhere on my body… With very very few limits.”

I have an idea but no image of it in my head. My eyes catch on a simple drawing, it’s classic style, of course, with no color. It would match his other tattoo well, and it fits him, and it fits what I was picturing in my mind. My mind reels at the significance of it to me, and what it would mean to him. It makes me smile, the thought of how cheesy it would be but also perfect. He squeezes my hand, and I look down, my eyes looking at his hand that completely covers mine.

“Okay, never mind, I don’t have doubts anymore,” I confirm.

“Are you sure?”

I nod eagerly.

“What can I help you with?” A man asks, approaching us on the other side of the counter.

“So she’s picking out a tattoo for me, and I don't know what it is... And I’m doing the same for her.”

The man raises his eyebrows, looking completely unsure of the two of us.

“Did you lose a bet?” The man is burly and large, and covered in tattoos. I stifle a laugh.

“That’s what it feels like doesn’t it?” I joke.

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “She didn't and neither did I.”

I smile at how defensive he is. He’s an easygoing person, though he’s persistent, he’s normally relaxed. I do watch and notice the small times, the little instances where he reaches for my hand, gets protective and turns into the scary boyfriend – not the easygoing one. Fake, of course. The scary fake boyfriend. Right now is one of those times, he’s very stuck on not wanting others to know what we have going on between us. He likes it being between us, and our group of friends, and I do too. Not that these tattoo artists truly care what Bellamy and I are.

“Alright, I don’t care. I’ll do hers. I’ll grab another artist for yours. You said this is some kind of secret? She can’t know, and you can’t know?” He asks Bellamy, and I watch as he nods.

“Exactly.”

I realize just how dumb this sounds now that we’re saying it out loud.

“It’s none of my business,” The artist speaks like he’s reminding himself as he walks away from the two of us and down a hall.

He comes back with another guy, and Bellamy and I separate, going with the other’s tattoo artist, explaining the pieces we have chosen for each other.

I point to the wall, pointing out the artwork I had seen and loved. I give him a size reference and tell him where to place it, my stomach filling with butterflies at the thought of my own tattoo, and the one Bellamy is going to walk out of here with.

“Are you two fine to get tattooed at the same time?” The first guy we spoke to asks.

I hesitate for a second, not scared, but a bit apprehensive. I’ve never been tattooed before. I know I’ll be fine, but there’s a bit of fear locked inside of my chest, buzzing there like a swarm of bees.

“Can we be in the same room?” Bellamy’s eyes are on me as he speaks, obviously noticing my apprehensive feelings.

“Whatever,” The guy speaks, and nods his head.

“You can’t look...” Bellamy warns me.

“Neither can you.”

The two artists get both stations set up, and sit us down. I turn my face away from the artist and notice Bellamy doing the same, looking directly at me. I smile and wave with my free hand. We’re close, but not close enough to touch.

“You ready?” The artist asks Bellamy.

“Go for it,” He tells the guy.

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