The movement in the room ceased, his tattooed fingers were no longer on my list, they lay resting on his lap, the dark black ink stark against his pale skin. An ajar window in Ryder's room brought in a breeze, ruffling my hair, bringing forth Eros' cologne, a mixture of the sea and the wind and everything that I loved.
I raised my eyebrow at him. "You're not 18 yet, how'd you get them?"
He flexed his fingers, thumb rubbing over the other hand, "You forget I didn't always live in California," he almost seemed sad, I wasn't sure to interpret this as him missing where he used to live, or this was him wishing he always lived here.
"Where are you from Eros?"
He looked up to me, and this time, unlike his typical glares, this was significantly warmer than I anticipated.
"I used to live in Virginia if that's what you're asking me. That's where I grew up."
I tilted my head. Virginia. I'd be lying if I said I expected to hear that.
"Why'd you move?" I asked, hoping that this, this would be one of those rare times I got to learn more about the tattooed boy.
He looked down again, and silence resumed.
I let my gaze wander, to the other hand, where I noticed the other name, which I presumed to be his father's name:
NARCOS
And underneath that:
ΠαÏÎÏαÏ
I knew Eros lived with his grandmother, but despite that, it was still difficult to imagine a reason as to why he needed to have his parents names tattooed on his fingers, I didn't even want to imagine the possibilities.
I filled the silence with words I thought to be helpful, I had to fill the pressing silence.
"I want a tattoo of my mother's handwriting," I confessed to Eros. It was imperative to me that Eros didn't feel alone, that the weight of the loss of a parents (I grudgingly assumed that was the cause of this tattoo) could be dealt with alone.
To be honest, I don't know how I'd deal with the loss of my mother without Angelica, we were each others support system.
He kept quiet, his dark eyes fixated on where the list used to be, swirling his fingers in the folds of the duvet, "Why?" He asked after a long moment.
I cracked a grin at this even though this was a sensitive topic for me, even though I'd probably end up crying in bed tonight just because I thought of her today, "The same reason you probably have your mother's name on your fingers."
My mother, the woman whose face I can only recall by the photo of her that lived in my wallet, my planner, under my pillow, everywhere I could put it.
The photo that lived and breathed the way I wished she did.
He looked up at me, palms flat on the bed, leaning forwards toward me, deep sea-blue eyes widened slightly.
Yes, we understood each other perfectly.
I understood this, almost too well, but that led to the question, the question that I knew I shouldn't have asked, but still did, "When?"
I didn't have to iterate the rest of the question; there was only one thing I could be asking about.
The death of his parents.
The sound of stomps up the stairs stopped us short, and Ryder came into the bedroom, grin on his cheeks genuine, dropping when he saw us. "What's up with you two?"
Our moment was shattered, and the tension filled air seemed to evaporate.
"Just a discussion of tattoos," I answered, twisting around so I faced Ryder. He moved to his desk, and leaned against it.
He hummed, ignoring my words. "My parents are coming home this weekend," he said as he turned to us, and we were able to see the radiating glee from him.
He was practically bouncing from excitement, pink lips pulled up so high they almost disappeared into his messy curls. "They need to get Eros and I sized for our suits and do some business, here, but fuck. The entire weekend guys!"
I felt a stab of pain.
It was saddening to me that this was one of the few things that could get Ryder so happy. That seeing his parents for two days meant more to him than getting an A on a test. It was saddening to think this was one of the few times he'd see them for the rest of the year.
"That's great Ryder," I said in a hushed voice, a saddened smile on my lips, and I pulled my knobby knees close to me, and placed my head on them, my smile saddening Ryder.
"What's wrong?" He asked, the smile dropping off.
Eros answered for me, "Look how happy you are," exasperation laced his tone, poisoning each word with sadness. "This isn't how it's meant to be. You're meant to see your parents every day, and not just three fucking weekends out of the year Ryder!"
Ryder's smile lifted, unexpectedly. "To be frank," he leaned against the dark wood of the desk. "No one has perfect parents, there's always something wrong, and I'm grateful for what I get. I know I'm luckier than most, and I don't plan on wasting any time with them."
â¦
good day my luvs <3
i hope this chapter reflected a bit more of my bb's eros' life, something i am very excited to continue to reveal, as well as alice's unprecedented kindness and odd alikeness to ryder.
may this chapter bring you a sad smile, and may you recieve happiness in the coming days, GUYs HOCO WAS YESTERDAY AND IT WAS LOWKEY SHIT AND I THREW IT BACK ON QUITE A FEW GUYS IM ASHAMED!
fucking fiddlesticks.
all my love