This War Paint


“Tell me,” I traced a finger around the barbed wire ink on his upper arm “tell me what they all mean.”

“You know that’d take forever. I’ve got over fifty of them.”

I moved my hand away to rest my head upon it, taking a long look at Fraser’s body sitting rigidly on my bed. If Dad came upstairs he would have a fit, he’d take one glance at this boy and decide that he hated him, that he was no good for me. I was so tired of hearing that I could do better. Because I couldn’t, didn’t want to.

“What’s your story Fraser?”

He gave a short laugh. “It’s not all that glamorous and certainly isn’t happy.”

I didn’t laugh; I was too focused on the art running along Fraser’s exposed skin. He was so beautiful, so out of place and unique surrounded by my pale lavender walls and undeniable girly furnishings. His arms thick with muscle spread themselves out behind him as the boy nervously fidgeted. Coal eyes met mine, their intensity terrifying.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal,” a small smile toyed with his lips “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

1 - Restless Dreamer . 2 - silk tea. . 3 + 4 - pattybee. . 5 - perle etoile . 6 - ThePrettyBlueBow