Addiction

-- 18 -- I Branched Out --

Six months ago if you would've told me I was going to wake up next to Liam Simpson on my second day of being 19 years old I would've probably said "I wish". If you would've told me I was going to spend my second day of being 19 years old a random tattoo shop in Waterford with Liam Simpson getting a tattoo and my nose pierced, I probably would've called you delusional. I would've laughed if you told me a year ago that I was going to be in love with Liam Simpson.

"Damn it," I griped, squeezing Liam's hand as the little needle repeatedly stabbed into the skin on the left side of my ribcage.

I was a massive whimp when it came to needles. I hated shots with a passion and I closed my eyes every time I got my ears pierced. There was quite a bit of detail in the tattoo I had decided to get too which didn't help. It was a skate lace tied in a bow, but it looked like it was coming from under my skin in the picture I'd chosen from Pinterest. I knew it wasn't going to be quick and simple but it did hurt way worse than I expected it too.

"You're such a wimp," he laughed.

"Do you even have a tattoo?" I asked, squeezing his hand even tighter.

"Yeah the cross on my right arm and the hockey one on my left shoulder, remember?" he replied.

"Obviously not," I remarked, rolling my eyes.

"Well it's not like you've never seen me without clothes on," he smirked.

"It was dark," I hissed.

"It wasn't in the locker room," he winked.

"Fuck you," I hissed.

"That's what you did in the locker room," he snickered.

"I hate you," I glared, trying not to crack a smile, "Son of a bitch that stings."

"If you keep being rude I won't let you hold my hand," he smirked.

"Why did I do this," I groaned.

"Because you're becoming a rebel," he laughed, "First me and now the tattoo and the nose ring."

Was I? To most people's standards, probably not. But to the standards of my mom and how I was raised I 100% was. I thought maybe she'd get on board with the nose ring but I really didn't think she'd like the tattoo. It was a miracle she liked Liam, to be honest, and I knew she wouldn't like him if she knew we were sleeping together or knew how we got together.

"Can you get your phone out so I can see it again?" I asked.

"I guess," he sighed, reaching into his pocket for his phone and pulling the camera up.

"I like it," I said, taking a look in the camera.

"Good because it'd probably hurt like hell to take it out right now," he laughed.

"It feels like I have a booger," I remarked.

"That's attractive," he laughed.

"Shit the bed," I cringed, squeezing his hand once again, "How much longer?"
"About an hour," the guy replied.

"Please don't break my hand," Liam laughed.

"I'll try," I laughed.

@@@

An hour and a half and a lot of whining later, Liam and I had left the tattoo shop and grabbed lunch before heading back home.

"Feel any tougher?" Liam asked with a grin as we drove back to Aladine.

"Nope," I replied, "My ribs hurt like a son of a bitch."

"What about your nose?" he smirked.