Page 161 of Defend Me

“You have six already,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, but…”

“You know it’s not different. It’s just your perception of it.”

He bit his lip. “Okay.”

We walked inside and waited for one of the artists to be done with another client. The longer we sat there, the more antsy Brooks got. I held onto his thigh and when they finally called us back, I jumped to my feet.

“They’ll kill me,” he said as he settled on the chair.

“I’ll kill them first.”

He laughed and reached for me. The artist, Melanie, brought a chair over so that I could sit next to Brooks, and he noticeably relaxed. When she started up the machine, he knocked his head back against the seat.

“Calm down,” I instructed.

“I don’t even know what you’re making me get.”

I leaned over him and snapped a picture of it before Melanie cleaned off the drawing so that she could start. Brooks took the phone and cocked his head.

“A wheel? It looks dope. Do you draw?”

“I went through a manga phase in high school and taught myself anime art. We don’t have to talk about that.”

“I think we do,” he said with a grin.

“Anyway, it’s a Dharma wheel. In Buddhism, it’s a symbol of the path to enlightenment and each part has a different meaning. I think it’s sort of fitting for you.”

“What does it mean?”

I racked my brain, trying to remember the exact parts. When I couldn’t, I pulled it up on my phone.

“The inside is for discipline because without it, you can’t move forward. The spokes are: wise view, intention, speech, action, livelihood, effort, mindfulness, and concentration. The outside is the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. And, obviously, the point is to free yourself from the cycle. To become… perfect? I don’t know. Don’t quote me on the specifics. This website is sketchy.”

The way he stared at me made me concerned that I’d overstepped. He hated the idea of perfection. Melanie had already started the tattoo. What if he didn’t want it on his body forever?

“What’s your favorite color?” he asked suddenly.

“Uh, purple.”

“Can you make the spokes purple?”

“It’ll fade faster,” Melanie said.

“I’ll just have to keep getting it touched up.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because you’re the only reason I care about all of those things, about making myself better.”

I had no idea how to respond to that without crying, so I just held his hand until the tattoo was finished. As soon as we were back in the car, I opened the sharpie and drew an Umbreon on his wrist.

“You’re such a nerd,” he laughed. “You don’t want me to get another tattoo already, do you?”

“No. I’m gonna draw art on your skin every day and when you get to that place where you need to feel something, you can look at them, which will remind you to text me. I’ll come over and suck your dick until you don’t hurt anymore. Or just talk or whatever.”

His smile was so wide as he pulled me into a kiss. “What if I want to call you?”

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