Page 55 of Forget Me Not

“Ready,” I assure him.

Loud buzzing fills the silent air as he turns on the tattoo gun. He does exactly as he says, drawing a small line first so I can get used to the feel of it on my skin. It hurts like I expect it to. It feels like a thousand tiny pinpricks, uncomfortable and painful. But I know the end product will be worth it.

“Okay for me to keep going?” He pauses, looking to me for confirmation.

“Yup, I’m good.”

“Okay, we’ll take breaks in between.” He starts up the tattoo gun again and gets to work. I rest my eyes as he tattoos the image onto me. The constant buzzing sound is almost soothing in a way and it distracts me from the pain. I open my eyes occasionally to watch him work. His eyes stay narrowed in on where he’s inking, and his lips purse in concentration.

The process takes longer than I expect it to. Hours pass and we take multiple breaks. He encourages me to continue drinking water and stay hydrated. I start to wonder how big the tattoo actually is after a while, not that I mind, but it makes me curious to see what it is. He turns on music as he works. It starts off with various rock and metal songs, but then more music I recognize comes on.

“Did you add my music to your playlists?” I ask him, realizing all the songs that have been playing are songs that I’ve either played while with him or have mentioned to him. Currently, “Son’s Gonna Rise” by Citizen Cope plays through his Bluetooth speaker.

“Just a few songs.” He plays it off and I don’t push him to elaborate. Just the fact that he was thinking of me. That he has these songs playing, listening to them in his playlist when he’s not with me, shows me how much he cares. And that he remembered all of them enough to add them to the playlist shows how much he pays attention and listens to me. It’s such a small gesture, but it’s just another way he makes me feel seen and heard.

He keeps going, and I let myself relax. Any sort of pain is lessened at this point as I listen to the playlist he put on, thinking of me. I’m half falling asleep in the chair and the arm above myhead is practically numb by the time he finishes. He puts down the tattoo gun, stretching out his hand.

“Are you ready to see?” he asks, and suddenly I’m nervous. Not that he didn’t get the tattoo perfect, because I don’t doubt that. But having the meaning behind it, of what I asked for from him, permanently inked into my skin. A reminder of good and bad. Suddenly, I don’t feel ready, but I no longer have a choice. I have to be.

“Yes.” I carefully stand from the chair, making sure to keep my arm lifted and away from the area since it isn’t wrapped yet. I walk over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room and turn to the side to get a full view of the tattoo.

“Wow.” The word comes out in a barely there whisper as I stare at the masterpiece Kade created.

It’s a fairly big tattoo, starting just underneath and to the side of my right boob and going down to about where my ribs end.

It’s a colored tattoo, and it almost looks like it’s inked in watercolors, a contrast to the dark ink he’s covered in. There are two long green stems crossing over each other, leaves hanging off of them that ultimately lead to the most beautiful blue flowers with purple accents. Some are bloomed and beautiful, alive; others aren’t quite there yet, still trying to open up. And then there are a few that look like they’re falling apart. The flowers dying and the petals falling with nothing there to catch them.

“It’s perfect.” I mean it. I can’t even explain what about it makes it exactly what I’ve been looking for, I just know that it is. “What type of flowers are they?” I look up to see him watching me. He doesn’t answer right away, looking contemplative.

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day.” He smiles softly at me, and I don’t even question his answer. I know him well enough to know that if he isn’t telling me yet, there’s a reason, and he’ll tell me when he thinks I’m ready to hear it. “Now, let me wrap it up.”

I sit back down on the chair, letting him take care of the tattoo and cover it in cling wrap. He explains to me all of the aftercare instructions and I write them down, even though I know he’ll remind me daily. He cleans as I continue to stare at the fresh ink through the cling wrap. The more I stare, the more I feel connected to it in a way. It may sound stupid, it’s just a tattoo, but to me, after all this time, it just feels right.

“You really love it?” he asks, walking up to stand behind me. I look up to meet his eyes through the mirror.

“So much,” I say. “And I love you, Kaden. Thank you for this.” I turn away from the mirror, letting my shirt fall over the wrapped tattoo, and look up at him.

“You never have to thank me for anything. I love you, beautiful girl.” He reaches up, cupping my face and brushing strands of hair away with his thumb. “Plus, the fact that I got to permanently mark you with my artwork is pretty fucking hot.”

“You sound like a caveman.” I laugh at him, although I don’t disagree. The fact that he is the one who created and inked the artwork onto me does add an entire layer of attraction to it. I like knowing when I look at the tattoo that it came from him, and it’s a reminder that he’s all mine. Just as I’m his. “I kind of love it,” I say and he laughs.

“Only for you.” He kisses me gently. “Always for you.” He kisses me again and I get lost in his lips. We kiss and nothing more. His lips soft and smooth against my own. The kiss is tender, fragile. A softness that we rarely allow ourselves to partake in. Yet our connection feels stronger than ever.

Minutes pass and our lips never leave each other’s. We make out like teenagers, with not a care in the world for our surroundings. Kade makes it hard to remember there’s anything but him.

Lennox taught me to love the rain, but I learned to love storms all on my own. Living in South Florida, I was no strangerto hurricanes growing up. They’re natural disasters that we’ve experienced way too often. When they were bad, they were terrifying. But when they were only a category one or two, I couldn’t help but kind of love them.

The thunder and lightning would argue back and forth, lighting up the sky and crying out for everyone to hear. The wind would howl, wreaking havoc on anything that got in its way. It felt like a chaotic argument we people were always stuck in the middle of.

But then there was this moment during the storm called the eye. Everything would die down, the sky would clear, the wind would slow, and you could walk outside and look at the damage that nature had caused. Standing there in the middle of it all, there was a calmness.

That’s what Kade is to me. My life has been full of different storms I’ve had to weather. They’ve knocked me down, they’ve weakened me just as they have strengthened me, and they taught me what to look for in the midst of them.

The storm that is my life had been drowning me for so long I didn’t even realize how short of breath I was. He yanked me out of it. He brought me back to life. In a life that has been full of chaos, he is the calmness in my storm. And every time I’m with him, he reminds me of it.

He finally pulls away, resting his forehead against mine. My eyes flutter open, and they instantly find his in the way they always do. The thing about Kade is that he understands my storm. He’s even been battling his own. And when I look at him, I see it. I see that I’m his calm too.

I’ve never understood a person how I do him, not even my twin. I feel connected to him in a way that feels surreal. A bond so strong that it feels like nothing could break it. I’ve never been good at letting people in. I’ve never wanted to after losing practically everyone that I did. But I broke my rule for him. I lethim in. All of him. And in this moment, I can’t imagine how I could ever regret it.

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