THE LAST THING I see before shutting my eyes is Greyson's smile, and his lips are the first thing I see when I wake up the next morning. His head at the very edge of his pillow, and mine on the edge of mine. He's so close that I can feel his steady breath, and it's then that I feel his hand on my waist. His finger grazing over my bare skin and I have to hold my breath.
He's so close and yet so far away.
It feels like he's miles away from me, but he was never that close to begin with.
I don't know when, but sometime in the middle of the night we had rolled together. The distance we put between us now mere inches. It feels like I might be falling off the edge to a place I won't be able to pick myself up out of. I used to dream about this closeness with him. I was a high school girl with a crush I couldn't control.
I had no say in it.
It's just always been there, and every time I try to ignore it. It's like it pulls me in deeper to this state of uncertainty where I question everything. I don't know how to keep myself from thinking there is some kind of hope that it'll happen. Greyson is nothing more than a friend.
He's my friend.
We are friends.
Taking a slow breath, I turn onto my back. A shiver encasing me as Greyson's hand moves with me, resting on my torso, just over my belly button. I want to get out of here before I have to face him. I need to calm down first, but the closer I get to the edge of the bed, the harder it is to do without making a sound.
I curl the sheets on the side of the bed into my fist as I slide my leg over the edge, resting my bare foot on the carpeted floor, and the grasp of Greyson's hand shocks me. I move too quickly and sink to the floor with a thud, a gasp falling from my lips before I can stop it, bringing my hand up to conceal it.
My effort to keep quiet, and not wake Greyson, failing miserably as I turn my head and see his eyes open at the abrupt sound of my fall. The butterflies in my stomach fluttering at the sight of his blue eyes this early in the morning. A girl could get drunk on those eyes.
"Morning," he mutters, his voice hoarse and warm.
"Hi."
"The floor cozy?"
I hum my answer as I bob my head, resting my hands on the floor to push myself back up. He moves his arm back to let me sit down on the edge of the bed, and I reach up to adjust the loose fitting top on my body. "How'd you sleep?"
"Not too bad," he says as he pushes himself up, resting his weight on his forearms. "What about you? Did you sleep well?"
I nod, not allowing myself to get any words out.
"What's your guys' plan for the day?"
"Isla and me booked an appointment at a tattoo parlor for this morning," I tell him, bringing my leg up as I turn toward him.
"You're getting tattoos?"
"That's the plan."
"And does Stevie know about this?"
"No." I shake my head. "It's a surprise."
He chuckles lightly. "What are you thinking about getting?"
"I can show you," I say and begin to reach across him for my phone on the nightstand on his side of the bed before stopping myself. "Sorry." I swallow, ducking my head down when my cheeks warm up. "Could you pass me my phone?"
"Yeah." He reaches for it, handing it over before lying on his side.
I quickly unlock my phone and bring up the sketch I did when Isla first suggested matching tattoos for the three of us now that Stevie is of age. It was a simple decision to make and after a few conversations we decided on butterflies.
Three little butterflies for three friends breaking out of their cocoons.
We never expected to be separated this soon, but we all knew that it was a question we may have to face one day. We just never expected for it to happen so soon. Even if Isla and I are at the same school, we're two worlds apart from each other and I have a hard time believing we'll have as much time for each other as we used to. Not when we had forever together or at least, the forever you think you have before university hits and life happens.
"I did three different sketches, one for each of us," I explain, scrolling to show him all three. "Each butterfly represents one of us. Stevie's the comma butterfly, the wings are unique and mostly orange, like sunshine," I say as I show off the butterfly in the middle, its wing in flight and point out the black and white sketch, deciding to keep the color out of it. The uniquely shaped spots being enough to identify it as the comma butterfly.
Her family always says she's the glue that holds her family together, much like sun brings together the day. She's bright and wonderful. And full of sunshine.
"And Isla?"
"The peacock butterfly," I say, pointing to the unique pattern on the open butterfly wings. The open wings have eyespots like a peacock's tail, and likely the namesake—it's different and beautiful—just like Isla. "She's always been one to follow her own path. It seemed like the right fit."
"And you?"
"Archduke."
"Why'd you choose that one for yourself?"
"It has two sides, I guess?" I bite my bottom lip. "The upper wingers are black with white tips, but the bottom wings are blue. I kind of felt like I found myself in this last year, and I've always been this person who was open, and then I met Chase, and it felt like he took some of that from me. I don't want to be dark or closed off though. I want to be this light side."
"It's really cool, Robyn."
"Thank you," I say before looking down at my phone. "Basically, the butterfly that represents us will be the centerpiece. The one in flight, and then the other two will be open winged and in our corners... if that makes sense."
"It makes complete sense. Do you know where you're thinking about getting it?"
"Not yet, no." I say, but brush my fingertips over the space just before the crook of my elbow. "I'm thinking maybe here or on my bicep or somewhere..." I trail off when I feel his fingertips on my skin again, his touch warm and his fingers calloused from the years of guitar playing. Stevie has them too, but hers never felt like this on my skin.
Electrified.
"What about here?"
My eyes drift to where his fingertips still rest on my ribcage, his touch delicately tracing the pointed hill. The same structure of my sketch and I hold my breath as his touch gets dangerously couch to the curve of my breast. I don't know what to do. It feels like I'm frozen and he seems to be the same. Frozen. Mesmerized by my skin against his.
"Y-yeah," I say, finding my breath again when he pulls his hand back, seeming to have remembered who I am and where we are.
"Sorry."
I shake my head as I swallow. "It's okay. I'm, uh, I should get ready and make sure that Isla and Stevie are awake."
"Yeah, you're probably right," he says and rolls onto his back as I get out of bed and try not to make it look like I'm running to the door despite the ton of bricks sitting on my chest. What was that? Did we? Could we possibility have just had a moment? The kind that makes you stop breathing for a second? It feels like my lungs are on fire.
I close the door to the bedroom behind me as softly as I can before running into the bathroom. I look unraveled as I lift my head to meet my reflection, like I just did something dishonest. I curl my fingers into the porcelain sink and take a deep breath, trying to calm my fluttering heart.
"Robby?" Isla opens the door and I quickly collect myself as I turn. "Morning."
"Morning," I say, turning the water on to splash some water on my skin. "Is Stevie up?"
"Yeah, she's in the kitchen with Felix," she says. "How was last night?"
I turn my head and sigh. "Don't, please."
"Robyn, come on... you've liked him forever."
"And he's Stevie's brother." I exhale and straighten up to face her. "He's not interested in me, Isla. I'm just his sister's friend."
"But—"
"But nothing." I shake my head. "He... his artist, the one he's working with asked him to test the waters with me and when I asked Greyson if he'd be okay if I was interested in him, he didn't even hesitate. He's not interested."
Isla's face drops as she steps forward and wraps her arms around me. I lean into her embrace, resting my hands on the small of her back as she squeezes me tightly. It takes the weight of everything off my shoulder and eases the pressure in my head. I don't feel like myself right now. I feel different. Broken, even.
"Are you okay?" she asks.
"I will be," I say. "Now, let's get ready and mark ourselves for life."
"Let's do it, butterfly." She nudges me, leaning her head against my shoulder before stepping up to the mirror to do her hair. Making room for me to do mine next to her.
***
"Will the two of you please tell me where we are going?" Stevie asks from the passenger seat of her car. My head has been spinning since I woke up, and I can't stop thinking about Greyson, and the moment we shared. If I can even call it that.
"No! That'll ruin the surprise," Isla says with a groan.
"You know I hate surprises."
My lips curl up as I decide to ease her worry, offering her my open phone with the photo on it. "Here you go."
Stevie studies it before looking over her shoulder at me. "I don't get it."
"We're getting tattoos, boo."
Isla nods her head from the driver's seat excitedly. "Matching tattoos."
"Three little butterflies." Stevie smiles and looks back at me. "They're all different."
"Each one represents one of us," I tell her, explaining the meaning behind it. "Together we create a kaleidoscope."
Isla nods. "Different colors and shapes and sizes that fit together beautifully."
"I love it," Stevie says. "It's perfect."
"We thought so too."
"Question is..." Isla trails off as she parks outside the tattoo shop we found online after days of researching for the right place. "Who's going first?"
Stevie rests her finger on the tip of her nose and Isla immediately follows, leaving me in the deep end. "That was childish," I say as I open the door and climb out, waiting for them to get out too. "But, yes, I will go first."
They both laugh as I walk towards the door, pulling it open before ushering them inside. Stevie takes the lead and Isla reaches for my free hand, pulling me in after her and my lips curl up as I approach the reception counter. Leaning against it, the three of us waiting until someone comes up to greet us.
"Hey there! How's it going?" A girl covered head to toe in ink grins at us.
"Good," I say with a smile. "We have three tattoo appointments under the name Robyn."
"Excellent. The matching tattoos, right?"
I nod my head.
"And who's going first?"
"That would be me," I say and she grins, ushering the three of us into the back with her. "I have the three designs I did for each of us."
"You want to text them to me and I'll get the stencil printed out. Do you guys know where you want to place them?" she asks.
"That's a good question," Stevie says, stepping in front of the full-length mirror as she examines her soft pale skin. "Isla? Robby?"
I bite my bottom lip as I step into the mirror with her, looking at the spots I had first imagined it before shifting on my feet and pulling my top tighter against my torso. I swallow and brush my finger where Greyson's had brushed, taking a deep breath. "What about here?"
Isla steps around to my other side and looks where I'm touching before nodding her head as she brushes her fingers over the spot on her own skin. "That's perfect. Vee?"
"I like it," she says and folds her top over her breast, turning to get a view of the bare skin under the wire of her bra. "I think that could be cute."
"Let's put the stencil on and see how you feel."
The three of us nod our heads and she gets everything ready, getting me to stand tall while she moves it into place for me. I move to the mirror as she puts it in the same place for Stevie and Isla, letting all three of us examine the purple stencil on our skin. My lips curl up into a smile as I lean into my two friends, our eyes meeting in the reflection.
It's the right place for us.
Together we are the three little butterflies and I wouldn't want it any other way.