“What could compel—” He stopped, looked around us, and then back at me. “Can we go to the car? I don’t feel comfortable discussing this here.”
I nodded, and we left the room. I bid a quick farewell to all the familiar faces while rushing out with Elio right ahead of me; he opened the passenger door for me, meaning he was going to be the one to drive this time. I didn’t comment on it as I got in, and he rounded the car, getting in too.
The second he locked the door beside him, his eyes latched onto mine. “Why?”
I sighed. “Remember your gun? The one that’s always underneath my pillow? It has your initials, and well, you were the one who shot me with your bullet, so I tattooed your initials to the spot that you shot me, but as you can see”—I shifted my sweater to the side—“at first glance, it just looks like a heart shape and a letterM, but with, like, a thunder kinda font? So no one except you and me would get the concept unless, well—they turn their head that way…”
He shook his head. “You know the concept. That’s my problem. You shouldn’t have done this—you should have picked something else.”
“Should I have tattooed a huge eggplant? Would you have loved that?” I snapped.
“No, it’s—”
“Forget the fact that it’s your initials; this was my choice, the only thing that it has to do with you is the fucking initials and the fact that you were the one who shot me there.”
“Zahra—”
The groan that left my throat cut him off. “What is the big deal, for fuck’s sake? I was so excited about this. It’s the beginning of my tattoo era; I should be downing it with shots or something.”
“Itisa big deal.” His voice was hard, same as his stare. “It will be a big deal when you look at it in the mirror every fucking day, and it reminds you of me.”
I angled myself properly so my body was facing his. “Howis that such a bad thing?”
He shook his head, hand going to mess up his hair. “Zahra,tattoos are meant to be monumental; they’re meant to mean something to you because theystay, okay? They don’t leave your skin or fade away; they’re supposed to be something you look at and—feelsomething, good or bad, depending on what they’re there for. They’re supposed to bemeaningful.”
“Okay?” I said softly, seeing where he was coming from. “You think you don’t mean anything to me?” I asked, and his gaze fell from mine to the console. “You think I spend time or money on someone that meansnothingto me? Do you think I’d even tattoo your fucking initials on my skin if I didn’t like you so much it annoys the fucking hell out of me?”
He made some strained, uncomfortable noise that had me backing my statement.
“Elio, half of these things that I do with you, I’ve never done them with anybody else. I have never felt like this for anyone in my entire fucking miserable life, and sometimes I just look at myself and wonder if I’m still the same Zahra who left Sicily years ago. That’s how much you affect me, you idiot, so yes, I tattooed your initials on my skin, and I love it; it’s pretty, they’re really fucking strong initials, and I’m wearing them proud—”
“And they’re going to stay there.” His gaze locked with mine. “They’re going to be there, and I—what if I’m not here, Zahra?” His eyes worked, looking between mine, finding my response.
“I don’t understand. Do you plan on going somewhere?”
He looked frustrated now, brows twitching between a frown and defeat before his unsure gaze fell back to the console, his lips a little downturned, eyes worried, his free hand clenching and unclenching on his thigh, which housed a leg that was now bouncing rapidly on his seat.
“Elio,” I called.
He shook his head. “I apologize, but this is—”
“Just a tattoo.”
He looked at me again, almost helpless, as he took my hand. “My head…” He looked into my eyes like he was trying toplaster his words to my brain. “My head is all kinds of messed up right now, Zahra. That—that little tattoo on your shoulder is ruining the reason why I drew this tattoo all over my body. You’re undoing the only thing that I was living for.”
“And that is what? Huh? To hurt yourself?”
“No. To fix this. To bring balance.”
I leveled him with a glare. “A balance that involves you dying.”
“You won’t understand.”
The scoff that left me was bitter. “I really don’t want to bethatperson, and I know this is a shitty thing to say to you right now, but do you think you’re the only one who’s had ittough? People suffer worse shit, people are out there,sufferingworse shit, living a life so despicable and vile and they don’t want to fucking off themselves, and you’re here blaming yourself for what happened to your family? That’s not fair, Elio, because it’s not even your fault! Do you think this is what they would have wanted? You think that’s what your mom would have wanted?”
“Yes! This is what she wants. She told me—” He stopped. Color drained from his face. Shock filled his eyes at what he had just said.
“Elio—”
