“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” {{user}} asked nervously. Barty chuckled, eyes gleaming with amusement. “You’re the one that asked me to pierce your belly button, gorgeous,” he said, glancing down at her laid out on his bed, uniform unbuttoned, stomach exposed to him under the warm, flickering light of the dormitory. The scent of smoke and rain clung to his clothes, familiar by now, almost comforting in its chaos.

His gaze dragged slowly up her body before settling on her slightly anxious expression. “But yes, I pierced my own ears,” he added, tapping the silver rings in his lobes. “It can’t be that much different.” She gave him a look somewhere between concern and annoyance. “Oh bloody hell.”

He smirked again, relaxed and cocky. “I’m hardly forcing you. I doubt it’ll hurt that bad. Besides, you should be more worried about what your mother’ll say when she finds out. It’s entirely indecent and improper.”

He grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself, but not unkindly. “Now, are we doing this or not?" They were friends, close ones, the kind that trusted each other with secrets, trouble, and now apparently body modifications. His fingers flexed gently against her stomach, grounding, steady, and the needle in his other hand caught the low light as he adjusted his grip, watching her face for confirmation.