His property

0.21

When we get home I'm greeted by the smell of Sebastian's cooking. Declan is walking with his arm wrapped around me and half asleep so I'm carrying half his weight.

"Declan," I shake him gently. His only response is a groan so I walk away from him and watch as he stumbles a bit and the trudges up the stairs.

"Hello ребенок," Sebastian greets as I walk in. "How was your trip.

"Not what I had hoped but it was OK." I say as he hands me a plate of strawberries. I pop one into my mouth, the whole thing.

"But you got to see your family," he offers politely.

"I got to see my sister that was nice," I say. "She's expecting actually."

Sebastian nods solemly. He continues to cook and I leave the kitchen with a bottle of water and the rest of the strawberries.
When I get to our room Declan is lying on our bed asleep. I set the bottle of water and plate on his night stand and try to walk away but he pulls me on top of him.

"I thought you were asleep," I laugh and roll over onto my side of the bed.

He kisses my lips softly and pulls me back on top of him. I rest my hands on his chest as I move to straddle his waist. Declan's hands move from my shoulders down my back and to my butt. He gives it a rough squeeze and I gasp pushing away from him.

"Sorry," his apology is sarcastic. "I love you."

I roll my eyes but don't tell him to move his hands. Instead I trace the the words 'Falsehood' tattooed on a small part of his left shoulder.

"Falsehood," I read out loud.

"Absence of truth or accuracy," Declan says. I slide off of him and sit up against the headboard. He puts his head on my lap and continues to talk almost absentmindedly, "I was 14 when I really understood what kind of job my father had. It still hasn't sunk in though that this is my life but I tried to convince myself it was OK because that's how I grew up."

"So you lived a-"

"False life. I'm still living it now." He bites his lip, "there's no way being a Mafia king will ever be normal. But it's all I know."

"Declan you can stop," I say because I don't know of to approach a topic like this.

"I don't hate it," he shrugs. "Sometimes it's just hard to accept that maybe I could have done something else with my life."

"If you did have the chance to do something else what would you do?"

"I like...I-I don't know," he says. "Please can we talk about something else?"

I look for another tattoo on his arm. There's one of half a lion's head the other half is it's skull. I point at it.

"It's in memory of my friend," he says. "He was strong and courageous like a lion but one day things happened, he got in trouble and his face was burnt with acid. Hence the skull part."

Declan then points to a tattoo of a stick man with a gun at his head. "This one is in memory of a man named Xavier. The gun represents Natalia. You remember her right?"

I could never forget Natalia there are still some of the scars she gave me on my body. The 'N' will probably be permenantly engraved on my chest.
There's a heart, club, diamond and spade lower down. His mother's name is also written on his arm it's small and almost hidden.

"Would you like one?" He asks after I've been silent for a while.

"No way," I say. "But can I draw one for you?"

"Kifo Nzuri," he shakes his head. "I love you but there is no way I will let you draw anything that will be permanently stuck on my body."

My art skills are not amazing I understand that. "Can I write something?"

"All my tattoos are reminders." He says

"Explain."

"My tattoos remind me of everything I've lost, who I am and where I've come from. I don't feel like you're something I should add to that. My tattoos are kind of like punishments for myself."

"OK so do you want it to be a quote or something inspirational?"

"Did you not hear me?" Declan's tone is serious like how he used to talk to me when we first met. I tense and he must feel it because he calms down, "fine but if it's crappy I'm putting it somewhere it will never be seen."

I hold out my hand and he shakes it. "Deal."

I didn't think Declan was serious but two days later a man comes to the house and sets up a table in our room. Declan sits on a chair next to the table and looks at me expectantly.

"Well where's my quote?" He smirks.

The tattoo artist gives me a piece of paper and I write in my best handwritting what the tattoo should say. I give it to Declan and he gives it back to the artist. Declan then removes his shirt and sits back in the chair.

"Here," he points to the lower left part of his chest and the tattoo artist immediately gets to work.

I watch the entire time. When it's done the tattoo artist rubs Vaseline over it and stands back to admire his work. On Declan's body are the words 'RIP to a tortured soul'.

"So what does it mean?" Declan asks once the tattoo artist is gone.

"It's in memory of the life you thought you lived. If all your tattoos remind you of what you've lost then I want this to be the tattoo that reminds you of what you have gained. I don't know who you were before I met you and whether you're still the same person. What I do know is that you don't deserve to punish yourself for what happened in the past. What matters is who you are now."

Declan laughs, "you're a sap."

"Really?" I sulk. "I thought it was really clever."

"It's clever and sappy." He says.

"But you like it?"

"Yeah it's OK," he's got one of those sly grins that I just hate.

"You are so ungrateful," I say as I leave the room.

"Wait Kifzi." He gets up and takes my hand, "I really want to believe this that I can put all this behind me."

I kiss his forehead. There's no way either of us can put any of this behind us but maybe we can try.