My mouth open to speak but no words came out. I cleared my throat. “Th-thank you. That means a lot to me.”
Enoch smiled, leaning down to kiss me. To my displeasure it was only a quick peck, and I blinked my eyes open when he stepped away, releasing my hand.
Enoch took my helmet from my hand and snagged the zipper to my jacket, pulling it down until my shirt underneath was exposed.
“I’ll hang it up for you,” he said. I nodded, shaking myself from my trance, and removed my backpack and my jacket. Enoch’s stare lingered on my inked arm, before he moved to a door on the wall beside us and opened it to reveal a small coat closet. He hung up my coat and placed my helmet on an empty space on the shelf above the hanging coats.
I unstrapped my riding boots, slipping them off, and proceeded to unzip my riding pants.
I looked up to find Enoch staring at me once again.
“What are you–shit,” he slapped his hand over his eyes, “sorry.”
I chuckled, shaking my head to myself. “I’m not naked.”
Enoch froze, slowly removed his hand and squinted at me. He looked at my legs to see that I was wearing a pair of long bike shorts. He sighed and laughed softly. I finished removing my pants, careful not to snag them on the last remaining chunk of scab on my calf before folding them up.
Enoch reached for them, and I smiled in thanks. He placed them in the coat closet, and I put my boots on an empty slot on the shoe rack by the door.
Enoch followed behind me up the stairs, and I realized that this was the first time he was seeing this much of my body. Which wasn’t much. I was wearing a baggie t-shirt, a pair of bike shorts that stopped just above my knees, and tube socks.
I hurried to the top of the stairs, taking notice of the cameras placed in the living room and cringed.
I turned to face Enoch, “There’s not cameras in every room, is there?”
“Not the bathroom or the bedrooms, but everywhere else, yes.”
I nodded, Enoch’s hand grasping mine to lead me to the couch. I dropped my bag beside it.
“You hungry?”
I shook my head, sinking down into the couch and turning my body to face his as he sat beside me. Enoch studied my face before dropping his eyes down to the tattoos on my arm. I let him stare, knowing that if he really looked closely, he would see the scar I had covered with the ink.
“What’s that one for?” he asked, his hands dragging down the length of the sword on my bicep. It was wrapped in vines, script forming one edge of the sword.
“A book series I read with Lottie and Hannah.”
“Hm,” he cocked his head, reading the quote from the book. “You like reading?”
“Sometimes, yeah. It’s a great escape from reality.”
“And this one?” His finger traced the butterfly that sat just below the crease in my elbow. The wings curved around the word PAIN, my final connection with my brother Javier.
“From that show we had watched the other night. It’s a butterfly with a monkey face on its wings.”
“Is this quote from the show, too?” I looked down to read the script that ran along the bottom of the butterfly’s wings.
“Yeah.”
Enoch gasped, twisting my arm to see the other side. For a moment I thought he’d noticed the scar, but then his finger traced the tail of the dragon that curled around my arm, its body stretching the length of my arm.
“Woah,” he whispered. “That’s sick. Is it…wait, is that a girl?”
I nodded, stroking the black silhouette of the girl just above my wrist.
“She’s falling. And the dragon is trying to catch her.”
“So, did you come up with all of these ideas or was some of it Cole?”
