Tattoos and Soul Mates

Left Alone to Our Own Devices

I looked up and saw Mr. Way smirking at us. "You two are matched, huh." "I'd prefer if I wasn't, but he's pretty chill." Ashley shrugged. "Finding your match is usually a good thing. Then there's me." Mr. Way held up his wrist after he pulled up his sleeve. 'Micheal' was printed against his pale skin, in 80's looking orange letters.

Ash was going to ask him something about it-I could tell-but Mr.Way clearly didn't want to talk about Micheal. I shoved the heel of my boot into his foot and dug it in. Mr. Way smiled at me gratefully through his pained expression. "So, you two go. I won't tell them you're skipping." He said with a forced smile, patting me roughly on the back. "Thanks, Mr. Way." "Please, call me Gerard." 

"Alright, Gerard. C'mon Andy, let's go." I nodded and grabbed my notebook, trotting after Ashley as he left the room. So, my house? He nodded, grabbing my wrist. The feeling of his cool, calloused hands over my burning tattoo was a welcome, relaxing, sensation. "What's your address?" "Here, I'll lead you there." I croaked, stepping in front of him and taking the lead, though he still kept his hand latched onto my arm.

After a few minutes of jogging through the streets, we arrived at my house. It was kinda small and an off-white colour, two stories high. "C'mon in. There's food and whatever here, so make yourself at home." I said, shrugging as I kicked off my boots. Ash slipped his off and placed them neatly next to the door before finding mine from where they'd been tossed and straightening them, placing them just as neatly next to his. He saw me looking at him strangely and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, OCD."

I smiled back at him. "No problem man. Just do whatever makes you comfortable." I said as I hopped up the stairs, taking them 2 at a time. 'Ugh, where is it.... C'mon, it's in here somewhere!' I thought to myself as I hunted through the piles of folders and notebooks, with loose pieces of notebook paper strewn through out. I found the maroon coloured folder with a victorious smile.

As I turned around, Ash was standing right behind me, startled as my chest smacked against his as I stood. "I-I'm s-sorry man, I-I didn't mean to get s-so close." He stammered, his tan cheeks blushing. I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. I'm used to it. CC has no concept of personal space when he's drunk." Ashley laughed awkwardly, stepping away from me. I flopped onto my bed, flicking through the contents of the folder.

Ash sat next to me, tucking his hair behind his ear as he watched me with awe. Well, not me, but the drawings. "Whoa..." He breathed, stopping me and grabbing one of the drawings from the middle of the stack. It was simple, and one I had done several years ago. It depicted an ankle bound by chains, with an eye drawn close to it. "Dude, this is awesome...what's it about?" He asked in a hushed tone.

I blushed and messed with my hair. "It's about how people can be bound or shackled by their mental illnesses, and by the stereotypes placed on them. I drew it around 4 or 5 years ago, after something with one of my friends." My tone was soft and broken; even more so than it usually was. "I feel bad for asking this, but can I...have it?" He asked cautiously, as if he expected me to explode. I smiled sadly and nodded. He smiled and carefully folded it, making sure all the edges and corners lined up perfectly, before sticking it in his pocket.

We spent the next few hours going through my drawings and notebooks. I learned a lot about his past. His parents were abusive and drunks, but they got killed in a house fire years ago, when he was 14. Since then, for the past 4 years, he's been living with his grandparents. He had been diagnosed with OCD when he was 12, and since then, he'd lost many friends. We were a lot alike, and had similar tastes in music. At one point, he was just sitting on my bed shaking from thinking about his parents. I hugged him tightly and was whispering comfort into his ear.

He looked up at me with those big chocolate eyes and went to drop his head, but forgot how close we were. Our lips gently caught each other.