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“Yes,” I say seriously, no more joking. “I’m sure.” He exhales and shakes his head softly before kissing me sweetly and quickly.
I show the girl exactly what I want and tell her how tiny I want it to be. She sets me up with an artist, another cool looking woman with tattoos. The woman draws a small and perfect heart on my right wrist in pen, and after getting my approval she starts to set up her station. I sit in the chair, with my arm outstretched on the arm rest. Elliot sits next to me, holding my other hand.
“You’re insane,” He whispers.
“Yes. But never impulsive…it feels kind of exciting to be impulsive.” I grin and he laughs under his breath. He shakes his head again.
“You ready?” The artist, named Annie, asks me. I nod eagerly. “Okay, starting now. Let me know if you’re okay.” She presses the tattoo gun to my wrist and gives me a test poke. It hurts, but I know it won’t last long. She slowly drags the tattoo gun around the shape of the heart. The whole thing only takes a few minutes.
When she is done, she tells me to take a look at it before she puts a special cream on it and wraps it up. I hold my wrist to my face. Right in the center of my wrist is a perfect tiny heart outline, probably the size of my thumbnail. I smile and hold my wrist out proudly for Elliot to look at. He looks at the tattoo intently before he smiles at me. I smile before looking down again at my wrist.
“Do you have time for one more?” He asks the artist. I whip my head towards him.
“What?” I ask incredulously.
“Do you mind if I get the same thing on my wrist?” He asks softly. “I won’t be offended if you don’t want me to.”
I gape at him now. “Are you sure?”
“About the tattoo, why not? About you? Completely,” He answers. My gaping mouth turns into a huge open-mouthed grin. When Annie says she has time for Elliot, I stand up to switch places with Elliot.
She cleans her station completely before resetting it for Elliot. While she is drawing the heart on his wrist, I take my phone out to snap some pictures. I take one of my plastic-wrapped wrist and one of Elliot smirking at me sitting in the chair. I take a close up of the artist tattooing Elliot’s heart and then I finish with a selfie of the two of us, while he is still getting tattooed. He chuckles when I put my phone away.
The artist finishes and after she wraps Elliot’s wrist, she explains to us how to take care of the tattoos while they heal. We pay and then leave the shop.
“That was exhilarating,” I beam and he grins down at me.
“You’re crazy,” He says.
“You know what this means right?” I ask. He raises his brows, waiting for my answer. “We have matching tattoos…we can’t ever break up.”
“Were you planning on breaking up with me?” He teases and I laugh.
“Well…I wanted to keep you on your toes…” I joke. He pinches my side, making me laugh. “We’re never ever breaking up. We’re forever, you and me,” I say seriously, reaching up to wrap my arms around his neck. He pulls me close, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Damn right, Hart,” He breathes.
“Oh my gosh…Hart! ‘Follow your heart, it will lead the way’! What your grandmother said!” I exclaim . I grab his face in my hands and squeeze his face a bit. “This is completely meant to be!” He laughs and leans down to bury his face in the crook of my neck. I hug him tightly.
“I love you so much,” He murmurs against my neck.
“Well, yeah, you better because we have matching tattoos now,” I respond and feel him shaking his head against me, laughing. He lifts his head and kisses me. “Oh man, I need to FaceTime Ana and show her. She’s going to freak out.” I pull my phone out as Elliot lightly guides me to the passenger seat and gently puts me in the car, like he is afraid of me coming up with another crazy idea.
THIRTY-TWO
ELLIOT, NOW
“I don’t know how I feel about this anymore,” I admit.
“It’s too late. I’m too involved,” She whispers not taking her eyes off of the TV. I look at her, her words triggering a memory from right before we started dating. A few weeks ago, that might have made me sad, but now I look back on our memories with happiness again.
Two weeks have passed since our ‘date gone good gone wrong gone right again’. We celebrated Christmas with her family, and it felt incredible to be more comfortable around each other again. Her parents had a hard time hiding their giddiness at the warmth Mads was showing me again.
Mads pulls me into her childhood home by my hand, only letting go to hug her parents. But before she lets go, I see her parents’ eyes lock after seeing our embraced hands, and they both look on the verge of tears.
“Merry Christmas, my girl,” Her mom says, hugging her tight. I hug Matthew and he holds me just a little bit longer than what is our normal. I don’t mind.
“Mom, did you make buckeyes?!” Mads exclaims as she passes the kitchen, then turns and runs in.
