Flight K109 (#1 ¬ Aiello Racing Series )

Mia James

I can't keep track of how many times I've kissed Elliot. Kissing him the first time a week ago was like a drug and I'm absolutely hooked on it, kissing Elliot, playing games with him, cooking together, simply being around him; it's the only thing I want to do.

We have to sneak around a bit more in Estonia, because here my parent is actually a parent and is home by 6 and checks in on me, and since Elliot lives with his parents too and his mum stays home going to his house is an absolute no go.

I manage to convince my dad to go on another date with that woman, he's actually pretty excited about her and tells me stuff about her all the time, so he gets to go on a date with her and I get to have Elliot over just that much longer.

We're in my room that night, he's fallen asleep with me wrapped around him like a koala. I know I'll have to sneak him out in the morning if I leave him like this but I can't bear to wake him up. He looks so sweet with his golden hair spilling out onto my pillow, like a big bear just begging to be loved.

His shirt has ridden up across his abdomen and I can see the smooth skin of his midriff. I can't help myself as I run a hand across it. He doesn't stir and I take it as an invitation to explore more. I run my hand across the lines of his stomach and up his rib cage. I stop abruptly when I reach his left hip, the skin here isn't smooth, there's a small section of it that's slightly raised and bumpy.

I roll out of the bed and walk over the other side to see it clearly, and a memory comes flooding back when I see the tattoo over his hip bone.

"I got popcorn!" I call as I walk into the living room, Elliot is picking out a movie for us to watch

I place the bowl on the coffee table and turn to look at him when he doesn't respond, he doesn't even make a sound.

Probably because he's asleep. Elliot is splayed out on my sofa, remote in hand, dead asleep. I consider shaking him awake, but I don't. He's had a long day of training and he's probably exhausted.

But now I have nothing to do. I giggle to myself when I spot the marker hanging on the fridge. I run over for it and kneel down on the floor next to Elliot.

I know it's completely immature to be doing this, we're well past the age, but I can't help myself. I start on his face, drawing a stupid mustache and glasses and just general goofiness. When I've used up all of his face I consider stopping. Then I notice his shirt, it's bunch up just under his chest and the sweatpants he's got on are hanging dangerously low on his hips, leaving most of his midriff exposed. I smile to myself as I start scribbling along his stomach.

I draw all across his midriff until there's only a little space on his left hip left empty. I don't know what takes over me but I draw a little arrow pointing upwards towards his face and his heart before signing my name over it. 

I don't know why, but I like seeing it written there on him, somewhere no one usually sees.

And now my name on his skin is staring straight back at me with the little arrow to accompany it, permanently tattooed into his skin, exactly where I drew it, right where only him and I would know it existed.

I smile to myself and crawl back into bed.

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Elliot comes over to my place again the next day, it's kind of like we can't spend more than 12 hours apart anymore.