He Is Broken. // H.S.

7~Secrets and Scars

I give out a giggle. For a minute, we just sit there in silence, our eyes wandering all over the place. I opened my mouth to say something, but he beat me to it.

"Do you have any tattoos?" he asks, filling the silence.

I pop my eyebrow, smirking,"Actually I do," I say proudly. I don't know how he could've not noticed, but I turn my wrist over and showed him a small leaf and a quote that's been permanently inked into my skin.

He smiles as he grabs my wrist, reading the quote aloud, "'She's like a leaf. She goes wherever the wind takes her'," he read, tracing over the small words on my wrist with his thumb. "That's lovely." He looks up at me, our eyes meeting.

The corner of my lips curve upward, as he re-traces over it. His hands are warm, and for some reason mine are cold. As he traces over and over my small tattoo, his touch sends electricity up my arm, causing me to twitch a little. But, he ignores it.

For a moment, I find myself getting lost in his beautiful green eyes, slowly drifting off into a daydream. His emerald eyes are so perfect and beautiful, it's hard not to look at them.

Eventually I look away, pulling my wrist away, his hands lingered on my wrist a little longer.

"Okay, my turn," I say, I half smile, regretting breaking the moment. "Umm, which tattoo do you regret getting?"

"Ooh, good one," he admits, smiling. As he thinks, he looks all over his body, which is covered with many tattoos. "Probably the one on my belly."

"The moth?"

He cuts his eyes at me, as if I just said something completely stupid. "It's a butterfly. But, yeah, I don't know what I was thinking when I got this." He said, lifting his black shirt up slightly, showing only the huge moth that's marked in the center of his stomach. "It's truly horrible."

I part my lips slightly, awing at the beautiful art that's been tattooed on his toned stomach. I see now that the antennas of the moth aren't as fuzzy as I thought, and the wings are more longer and curvier than a moth's.

I've only seen pictures of his tattoos, either awing or screaming at them. But in real life, they're all absolutely beautiful. Sure most of them are really, really dumb, but some are amazingly drawn and have good meanings to them. Maybe I'll even get one of his tattooed on myself.

"It's actually very beautiful," I say, softly touching his bare skin. His stomach instantly igniting with goosebumps. I outlined the moth with my finger, then traced over the tiny details.

When I'm done tracing the whole thing, I pull my hand away, intertwining it with my other hand. He plops his shirt back over his inked stomach, then turning to face me. I can feel his emerald eyes pierce through me like a sword.

For a minute, I just stare out the windshield, my eyes focused on the large house. Then I slowly turn my head towards him, realizing that he's been staring at me this whole time.

Our eyes meet, "It's, um, your turn," I say, half smiling, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Oh right, sorry," he says, shaking his head. "Hmm, If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be?" He asks with a smile.

"Definitely the beach," I immediately say. "I don't care where it is, just any beach."

"I still can't believe you've never been to the beach before," he says in a midway laugh.

"Hey! I'll go soon!" I defensively say, growing a grin on my face.

He laughs, "Okay, okay, I believe you," he slows down his laughter before he continues. "So, I guess I'm kind of clueless, but how old are you?"