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I'm okay. He's right. I'm okay. I look up at him, at his clear blue eyes, at his boyish smile, at the dimple on his cheek.
His presence calms me. It really does.
"You're going to feel a prick," Brendon says.
I squeeze Ethan's hand until I can't feel my fingers. Words barely make it to my lips. "Okay."
The needle hits my skin. It's more than a prick. It's like a flu shot. Actually, it's like several flu shots every second.
It fucking hurts.
I chew on my bottom lip. I dig my nails into the back of Ethan's hand. My heartbeat slows. My breath steadies. It hurts, yes, but at least now I know what I'm dealing with. I'm not trembling with anticipation.
"You're got this, Vi." Ethan rubs my hand with his thumb.
I've got this.
Not enough to respond, but I do have it.
I let my eyelids press together. Slowly, my endorphins kick in. The needle hurts like hell but it's exhilarating too.
I'm marking my body forever.
Hell, that's scary.
This pain is the last pain I'm going to force myself to suffer over Asher. After this, I'm done punishing myself. I'm done wallowing.
I'm ready to feel good again.
I'm ready to be happy.
Ethan's palm is warm against mine. His eyes are glued to me and they're filled with this amazing mix of concern and excitement.
The tattoo takes an hour and a half. The entire time, Ethan stays next to me, his palm pressed against mine, his eyes glued to mine.
When I'm done, Brendon steps away. He gives me a minute to take in my new ink.
It's just like the stencil, only it's forever.
It's perfect.
I push myself to my feet, but I'm not steady yet. I stumble. I stumble right into Ethan's arms.
"Careful, Vi." He holds my body against his. "What do you think?"
I look into his clear blue eyes. "It's perfect."
"Yeah, it is."
This moment, him staring at me with all that care and affection, is perfect too.
Ethan releases me so Brendon can tend to my fresh ink. The tattoo artist applies a balm and plastic wrap. He's explaining how I take care of the ink, how I need to stay away from swimming for a few weeks.
And Ethan is smiling and making a joke about how I'll barely survive two weeks, being
such a Cali girl.
And I'm lost in his eyes and his smile. But more than that, I'm lost in the feelings bursting through my chest. They're stronger than nerves, stronger than grief, stronger than adrenaline.
