by Suzi Davis
“You’re stalling,” I accused. Surprisingly, his smile faltered. He eyed me uncertainly.
“I’ll show you,” he agreed. “But… I’m not used to people looking at my tattoos. They’re… well, you’ll see. It’s a little embarrassing to not be able to remember the story behind them, though I know there is one for each. I’m sure they convey an intensely personal significance; I’m just not sure what that is.”
“You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.” It wasn’t that important to me and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable just to satisfy my curiosity.
“I know,” he answered, his eyes twinkling.
He was still wearing his school shirt. He quickly unbuttoned it to reveal a white t-shirt underneath.
“My tattoos are all black,” he explained as he shrugged his arms out of the long-sleeve shirt. I could already see the curious, intricately-patterned tattoo coiling down his right forearm and into the palm of his hand. “They show through my shirt unless I wear layers.” He hesitated again, his eyes considering me, then he moved off the bed to come to stand in front of me near its edge. He gently took my hands, pulled me forward and placed my hands at his waist. My pulse began to pick up in pace as he slid the material of his white, cotton t-shirt between my fingers. His hands lingered over mine. I looked up to see him gazing down at me, a slowly burning passion building in his eyes. The look he gave me thrilled and frightened me all at the same time.
“Go ahead,” he encouraged as he slowly lifted his arms above his head.
I shifted onto my knees, and watched his chest evenly rise and fall as I carefully lifted his shirt. Slowly, inch by inch, I exposed his warm, smooth skin. My hands slid up over his flat stomach, across the muscles of his chest, along his lean, muscled arms as I gently tugged his shirt up and over his head. I let it fall to the floor in a crumpled heap, instantly forgotten. I was spellbound by what I saw before me.
I was first struck by just how intensely attractive he was. The muscular physique that had been hinted at through his clothes was revealed before me. My desire for him was abruptly overwhelming, it took my breath away. Secondly, I noticed his tattoos.
The strange, intricate, spiraling pattern twisted from his hand, up his arm and wrapped around his shoulder, the edges of it almost reaching the side of his neck. It continued on its thorny path down the right side of his ribcage, tapering off just above his hip in a strange, root-like pattern. Over his left ribcage was another tattoo of four dark symbols, possibly hieroglyphics, forming a straight line down his side. Directly over his heart was a third black design, about the size of my fist. At first it just looked like an intricate Celtic knot but upon closer inspection I realized the ‘knot’ was formed by the carefully shaped letters of a small and flowing script in an unfamiliar language.
I ran my fingers over his skin, tracing the shapes and lines of his tattoos in awe. I looked up at him in wonder. He was watching me silently.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered to him, bending my head to kiss the tattoo over his heart. I felt him shiver as my lips touched his skin.
“Wait,” he instructed quietly as he took a small step back from me. He then slowly began to turn around. I gasped aloud as I saw his other tattoo, the breath rushing from between my parted lips.
His whole back was one large, amazing tattoo. A Celtic cross ran up the length of his spine and out across the backs of his shoulders. It was stunning; literally breath-taking. Whoever had inked this tattoo on Sebastian was a true artist. The detail was overwhelming; everywhere I looked something new would jump out at me as images, symbols and words seemed to all be hidden and twisted into the beautiful design. And the skill and shading involved was even more impressive, making the tattoo look unbelievably real and three-dimensional. It fit his back perfectly, beautifully melding into the curves of his muscles, defined by the shape of his own body. Now that I had seen it, I could no longer imagine him without this tattoo. It was so obviously meant to be there; an undeniable part of him.
I placed my hand gingerly on his shoulder, gently turning him to face me once more. He looked worried as he met my gaze.
“I wish I could remember why I have these tattoos and what they mean to me. I’m sorry I can’t explain them to you. I know it must seem so strange to be covered in tattoos and to not even know…”
“Sebastian,” I interrupted, “do you honestly think that of all the things you’ve revealed to me today, that your tattoos are going to be what weirds me out the most?” I asked in sarcastic amusement. He paused for a moment, then smiled sheepishly.
“I suppose not. But they do ‘weird me out’ the most. To have something that you know is a part of you but that also feels so alien… it’s a bizarre feeling.”
“Everything about you is bizarre,” I pointed out. “It’s what makes you, you. It’s why I love you,” I added, only a little shyly. I slipped off the bed and stood before him. I bravely wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled myself against his bare chest. I could feel the hammering of his heart, beating a steady and strong pulse.
“Thank you for showing me,” I whispered against his skin. He took a deep breath in, his chest rising as his arms tightened around me.
“Thank you for asking but not questioning. Thank you for understanding me, even when you’re confused. Thank you for coming today; for being brave enough to love me, to fight fate.”
“You’re welcome.” I kissed his chest again but this time I didn’t stop there. I let my lips slowly and shyly trail their way up his neck and along his jaw, eventually reaching his mouth. He stole my breath away once more as he kissed me in a way that made me forget about everything he had just told me, about everything that I knew about him and myself. All I knew in that moment was all that I needed, that I was whole and complete, and absolutely nothing more and nothing less, and nothing else mattered.
Chapter Ten - The Solution
I woke at three in the morning, warm and safe in Sebastian’s arms, comfortable and cozy in his bed. We had stayed up late talking, our discussion frequently interrupted by the need to touch one another, to lose ourselves in the electric desire between us. Eventually I had grown tired, overwhelmed and exhausted by the strenuous day. I had known Sebastian didn’t want me to leave, I hadn’t felt ready to go either. I had barely protested when he suggested I rest in his bed for a while before driving home. In the comfort of his arms, I quickly and easily fell asleep listening to the hypnotic rhythm of his heart.
It was so late when I woke and a large part of me just wanted to fall back asleep, to stay with Sebastian forever but I knew it was time to go home. No matter what Sebastian wanted, I couldn’t imagine my parents ever calmly accepting me not coming home all night and not sleeping in my own bed. I let out a little sigh. Sebastian stirred at the sound, his arms tightening around me.
“You’re leaving?” he asked quietly in the darkness. His low, beautiful voice sent thrills through me. I struggled to find the strength to go.
“I have to,” I told him and myself.
“I know.” I felt his lips press against my forehead in a gentle kiss. I immediately tipped my head up, my lips searching for his in the shadows. He surprised me by pulling back with a muted groan.
“I’ll never be able to let you leave if you kiss me again,” he murmured. I could feel the sudden tension in him as he tried to resist what his body so obviously wanted. I couldn’t help but smile, an uncharacteristic giggle bubbling up in my throat.
“I don’t want to leave either,” I admitted. I forced myself to sit up though, instantly feeling colder as I moved away from him. “But if I don’t go home, at least for a little while, my parents will never let me come back.”
The room filled with the soft glow from his bedside lamp as he reached over and flicked it on. He was sitting up now too, his dark hair rumpled from sleep. As we had talked, he had slipped his button-up shirt back on but left it open to reveal the smooth, muscular shape of his bare chest and his beautiful,
exotic tattoos. My desire for him flared once more. I swallowed hard.
“You look irresistible with your messy hair and wrinkled shirt,” Sebastian teased as he looked me over with a dimpled grin. We had both slept in our clothes, Sebastian never pushing the boundaries between us too far. I supposed when you’d lived for hundreds of years, you learned to be patient. I felt no need to rush things between us; after all, it was entirely possible we may have forever to explore being together. And no matter how crazily and passionately in love with him I was, no matter how fully and inexplicably I trusted him, it didn’t change the firm morals I had always stuck to. I would be with no man in that way, unless he was my husband. Sebastian had easily and unquestioningly accepted this, almost as if he had expected no less.
“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing,” I admitted, openly admiring him. It surprised me still how easy it was being with Sebastian in this way. Our love for one another was just a natural extension of our close friendship and it felt so undeniably right that I couldn’t imagine it being any other way. The desire in his eyes flared as his gaze met mine.
“Should I walk you to your car?” he asked, a slight strain to his voice. He wasn’t used to denying what he wanted. I knew that it was perhaps just as difficult for him to let me leave as it was for me to actually do it.
“No, it’s alright. Get some rest.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” he admitted. “There’s a lot on my mind and without your distracting presence, I can’t imagine I’ll be able to relax enough to sleep.”
“Try,” I encouraged.
“If that’s what you want,” he agreed, his eyes twinkling. “Goodbye, Gracelynn. I’ll see you in a few short hours.”
“You’re coming over?” I asked, surprised.
“Of course. I may not be able to spend the nights with you but nothing can keep me away from you during the day. I will be knocking on your door promptly at ten o’clock.”
“Ten?”
“Yes, I thought I should give you some time to prepare your parents.”
“They probably won’t be home,” I argued.
“They will. I want to talk to them.”
“Oh,” I said, reconsidering. “But why? You’ve met them before – you know what they’re like.”
“Yes, but I think perhaps we should be reintroduced. Don’t worry – I make an excellent second impression. But you should tell them about us; I don’t want you to have to sneak around behind their backs to see me.”
“I don’t mind,” I argued, feebly.
“Coward,” he accused with a laugh. “Don’t worry. It will all work out just fine. Just remember, my heart’s greatest desire is for you to be happy – so what could possibly go wrong?”
“About a million things,” I muttered as I slid off his bed, picking my blazer up from off the floor. He laughed again at my pessimism.
“Ye of little faith,” he quoted, a tone of ancient wisdom to his words – his eyes were laughing at me. I rolled my eyes back at him and turned away quickly, leaving his room without another word. It wasn’t that I was angry, just that I could think of no appropriate way to say goodbye without inevitably becoming distracted and staying much, much longer.
The hallway outside Sebastian’s room was dark and silent, and felt much colder than his bedroom. I crept down the hall in my socks, shoes dangling from my hand, wincing every time I stepped on a loose floorboard – one of the disadvantages of restoring original flooring. Though Sebastian had assured me that the Jensons would not object to my being there so late, I still felt guilty and nervous as I crept down the stairs and out the front door, closing it behind me as quietly as possible.
Once I was out on the front porch, I took a deep, calming breath of the icy night air letting it out in a misty huff. I looked up at the clear sky as I slipped my shoes on, marveling at the millions of sparkling, white stars. The frost crunched under my feet as I made my way down the paving stone path, careful not to slip on the icy ground. I was glad for the excuse to move slowly, to take my time. The whole afternoon and evening I’d spent with Sebastian had been so incredibly overwhelming and intense. It was nice to take a moment to let the cold air clear my head, to slow things down and have time to really think about all that had happened.
I let my mind wander as I unlocked and got into my car, letting it idle for a while to warm up the engine before backing out of the Jensons’ driveway. I drove much more slowly than usual because of the icy crystals I could see twinkling and shining in patches on the road. The bright moon reflected off the polished surface, lighting my way more clearly than even my headlights. I was surprised by my car’s steady traction as I drove, guessing that this was due to some desire of Sebastian’s for me to get home easily and safely. Either way, driving took much less concentration than I had anticipated and allowed me to quickly become lost in thought, contemplating this most unexpected and eventful night.
Mostly, I was feeling relieved that Sebastian was no longer leaving. I was blissfully happy that not only hadn’t I lost his friendship but I had also gained something more. But it was the ‘more’ that intimidated me, concerned me. Though this was definitely what I wanted, I prayed that things wouldn’t change too much between us. The sudden intensity of our relationship was heady and overwhelming; I didn’t want to lose my light-hearted, quirky, charming friend to this new passionate and equally confusing and desirable-side of Sebastian. I could only hope that he’d be able to reconcile the two. Our friendship was too precious to me to lose any part of it, even for this breath-taking, life-altering love that filled me to the brim.
I knew it was silly of me to worry about this. There were certainly more pressing issues that should have been concerning me than the effect my new relationship with Sebastian would have on our friendship. Like the fact that I was no longer aging. Surprisingly, this revelation had only scared me a little. For the time being, I wasn’t overly concerned. It was the future implications that bothered me, the ones Sebastian had so aptly pointed out. How would I feel when everyone I had ever known was dead and gone, and I was still just eighteen? As long as I still had Sebastian, would it matter? Or would I eventually grow to resent him, as he had suggested? I couldn’t bear that thought either.
And then there was Sebastian himself. Though he had shared so many secrets with me and been more honest and open than ever before, there was still so much about him that I didn’t know – that he didn’t even know about himself. His past stretched so far back, what if he could never remember it all? Could I really love someone so mysterious, so alien? Someone who had killed and worse – albeit in the past? Someone with the power to make whatever they wanted happen, for better or for worse? Someone who was, in reality, over four hundred years old? I sighed, I already knew the answer. I was powerless not to love him; no matter who he was, how long he’d lived, what he’d done… it didn’t matter. The heart wants what the heart wants, and this I could not deny.
I blinked hard, fighting a yawn as I turned onto Beach Drive. I could see the ocean now, the water midnight black and eerily calm, the glowing moon and brilliant night sky reflecting upon its glassy surface. I slowed down even more as I navigated the winding, ocean-side road though there was less ice here along the water. Honestly, I was just stalling my return home and the unavoidable and inevitable encounter with my parents or at the very least, Walter.
I wished it weren’t so late and that I could call Clarke. I needed to know what he had told my parents so that I could corroborate my story with his. I had no idea what he could have said that would not only explain my absence from dinner but might also provide a reasonable excuse as to why I was returning home at nearly 3:30 a.m. Explaining my absence tonight was only half of my problem though, the other half was going to be arriving at my doorstep at 10 a.m. sharp the following morning. What would my parents say when I told them I was dating Sebastian Caldwood? My father had seemed to respect and perhaps even admire the Jensons – so hopefully that woul
d help. My mother was going to be the real challenge. I could only hope that Sebastian would want them to accept him enough that it would be so. I somehow doubted that he would really care what they thought of him, just as long as they didn’t stand in our way of being together. That was all he would need to be happy, and I supposed, that’s all I needed too. Though their acceptance and approval would be ideal, it was unlikely and in all truths, unnecessary.
I told myself this, but it still didn’t stop me from beginning to tremble as I pulled into my parents’ driveway, the gates left open for my return. I began to feel sick to my stomach as I parked my car and saw that Walter was waiting for me at the side-entrance to the house. His expression was sour and disapproving as he watched me get out of my little car. His eyes narrowed as I walked towards him.
“When your mother informed me that you would be in late, I didn’t expect you to stay out until this ungodly hour or I might never have offered to wait up for you,” he told me, glaring at me accusingly as he spoke. I returned his stare levelly, though my stomach was doing flips as I nervously waited for him to say something more, to give me some clue as to what reason he might think I was out so late. His small, black eyes quickly flickered over me as if examining me for something out of place. He zeroed in on my eyes, glaring into their ocean depths. “You are to go straight to bed. Your parents have taken time out of their busy schedules to brunch with you tomorrow morning and you will not spoil their efforts by over-sleeping or appearing anything less than fresh and enthusiastic,” he chastised, gesturing for me to go inside as he spoke.
“Yes, of course. I shall look forward to it,” I murmured, trying to keep the surprise and incredulity from my voice and face as Walter took my jacket. What had Clarke said?
“And one more thing, Miss Grace,” Walter added, his voice taking on a sharp tone.
“Yes?” I carefully kept my expression innocent as I turned to meet his narrowed, beady eyes.