A couple more. A part of the bath came into view with its predictable, cracked, green tile. Pipes. Generic soap and shampoo.
What I saw next caught me completely unprepared.
Vitali was midway through taking his sweater off and hadn’t noticed me as he grabbed the hem and pulled it over his head. The first thing I saw was the pronounced muscle shifting and flexing beneath his skin. The second thing I saw didn’t quite register.
At first, I thought he wore an undershirt. My stupid brain tried to make sense of it and held me very still, staring. He straightened by then, the sweater balled up in his hands, and turned his head to acknowledge my presence, but said nothing. His precious turtlenecks made sense.
They were tattoos.
A lot,a lotof tattoos.
His entire neck was just a dark space without pattern, and it extended down his spine where a large depiction of a sleepy sun covered it shoulder to shoulder, the last of its rays ending just above the waistband. I didn’t get to study whatever was on his arms because I nearly blacked out as he noticed me.
“Alright,” he said, and cleared his throat. His shoulders tightened.
I thanked God he was buying more time for both of us.
The water was still running.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and the utter embarrassment of my criminally inappropriate invasion hit me all at once. If there were a door on those hinges, I would have slammed it shut. “I’m sorry, I’ll go.”
“Are you leaving?”
The hurt in his voice tore my heart out.
I opened my mouth, but he turned to face me, and his chest—hisentirechest was covered in them too, and the Russian language instilled in me since birth became orderless gibberish.
“I don’t have a phone. But I can flag down a taxi. Or I can drive you home,” he said, any hint of emotion gone. Just‘what kind of tea do you want, mint or chamomile?’but ‘are we never going to speak again or will you say enough to let me know how you’re getting home, and then we’ll never speak again?’
My hands shook.
He raised an eyebrow, and when I only stared at him, opening my mouth like a fish without sound, he picked up a razor and leaned over the sink.
“I’ve never seen tattoos before…” I whispered, and he gave me a dispassionate glance through the mirror. “In person…”
“And?” he asked genuinely without pausing the shave.
“I don’t know what to tell you that isn’t a lie,” I said, oblivious to everything but the rapid beating of my heart and trying hard not to stare at him.
“I guess that leaves the truth.”
“I’ve never seen tattoos before,” I repeated. “I’m just… it wasn’t expected.”
Mama would have a heart attack. Elena would have a heart attack.Iwas having a heart attack. I couldn’t even think of anyone I’d seen on TV with this many—and certainly notin Russia aside from some prison thugs, and that was just in pictures. Papa’s friend had some faded green letters on his knuckles, but Papa never let him inside the house.
“They’re not from prison,” he said, clearly reading my thoughts. The razor tap-tapped on the sink. “I’ve never been to prison, Katya.”
I leaned against the doorway and helplessly crossed my arms just to put them somewhere. I should have left the room and had this conversation when he had a shirt on…
…I’d have to spend hours confessing before a priest whenever I went back to church to make up for my thoughts, because God—I didn’t want him to put a shirt on. I wanted to continue staring at him and figure out every line, curve, and small letter hidden among the designs. It didn’t take away from his good looks, only made me feel like a no-good deviant with no Mama to raise me like a lady for being so interested.
“Is this… does everyone in New Zealand have these?” I did his job for him, trying hard to convince myself and hoping he’d play along.
He smirked, touching up the last bit of stubble. “I don’t know what to tell you that isn’t a lie.”
“Then lie to me,” I whispered.
“Once you get one, it’s easy to get others,” he said, and set down the towel, taking a step into the doorway which was clearly not big enough for the both of us. The ink was so close to me I could see my reflection in the water droplets that’d splashed onto his chest. “I didn’t have a choice in my first one. So I covered it with the others until I didn’t have to see it every time I looked in the mirror, Katya.”
