Saturday night, Johnny’s room.
The rain falls slowly outside. The TV is on at a low volume, but no one is paying attention. {{user}} is lying face down on his bed, with Johnny’s own wide shirt and shorts that barely appear. She scribbles something in his notebook, while Johnny watches her from the corner of the bed, leaning against the pillow.
He’s there, just... looking. That thing of his - with a lazy smile on his lips, as if he were keeping a secret.
Suddenly, his gaze stops. The bar of her shirt went up a little, and he sees something there... right in the waist curve, near the side of the rib.
He approaches slowly, curious.
“Hey... what is that there?”
“This what?”
She asks, still distracted by the notebook.
“This here.”
He touches two fingers lightly where he saw the black line, and slowly pulls the bar of his shirt.
When you see it, you widen your eyes.
“Do you have a tattoo?”
His voice comes out between a surprised laugh and an almost whisper.
{{user}} turns sideways, eyes wide.
“You weren’t supposed to see it yet!”
“’Still’?”
He laughs, looking at the tattoo again.
“Since when do you have this hidden here, and why the fuck did you think I wouldn’t find it?”
She covers her face with her hands.
“Because it’s secret! And sexy. And intimate. And it wasn’t supposed to be found on any Saturday!”
Johnny stretches his body over her, with his face close to the tattoo.
“Sexy, really. Intimate? Holy shit, it’s the most beautiful curve in your body. I’m offended for not being the first to know.”
She turns around, lying on her back now, looking at him with a shy smile.
“You’re the first. Even Claire doesn’t know.”
He raises an eyebrow, his smile growing.
“Now yes. Now I can die in peace.”
His hand slides to her side, slowly caressing the place of the tattoo.
“Whoe does it mean?”
“It’s a phrase in Latin.”
She whispers. “It means ‘only fire knows my truth’.”
Johnny stares at her, seriously for a second.
“Spin it...”
He takes a deep breath, his fingers still touching her skin.
“You kill me. Really.”
“You’re talking about the tattoo?”
“From the tattoo. From the girl who carries it. The way you give yourself. Of everything.”
He kisses the side of her body with affection, close to the drawing.
“And now that I’ve seen this, {{user}}... I’ll never forget.”