Scars, Stripes and Kisses

"Welcome to my mini mansion as I like to call my home," I smiled up at the 6'3 boy next to me.

"It's nice," he looked around.

My TV was to the right of the door. My home was open floored and you could smell spaghetti plaguing the air. He walked over to my 'Wall of Fame'. It consisted of my medals and pictures from gymnastics.

"You look mad," he pointed at a picture.

"I was so tired that day. It just so happened I sprained my ankle during vault that day," I giggled and took off a picture from the wall.

It was Max, Adam and I. I was wrapped around Adam and Max was holding my trophy. It was my first time winning all around. I was so happy that day.

"Beez, spaghetti's about done," Max was still stirring noodles.

"I wish I could erase this picture," I hung it back up and walked over to the oven.

Colson was content with my pictures. I opened the fridge and grabbed the Sky bottle.

"Opening early," I smiled and popped the bottle open.

"Make you famous drinks!" Max elbowed me.

"Blender?" I pulled out my V8 bottle.

He shrugged his elbow in the direction of the cabinets. I grabbed the blender and poured some of the vodka and vegetable juice in. I grabbed ice and added some pieces. I turned the blender on and grabbed some cups.

I hadn't notice Colson moved over with Sam. Max poured the three glasses. I was still off in Wonderland. I grabbed a glass and handed it to Colson.

"What is it?" he stared.

"Bloody Mary. Today is tear sobriety 25. I'm proud," I drank out of mine.

The vegetable taste masked the vodka. I smiled and stalked back towards the kitchen. Max was turning the oven off and pulling out the garlic bread.

"Food's ready!" I grabbed a couple bowls and sat them down.

"Finally. Max takes forever to cook when your gone," Sam pushed past me.

"Fourteen year old brat. Be happy he can cook," I took the spoon from the spaghetti pot. I spooned noodles into my bowl and moved to the sauce.

"Sorry mother," I detected heavy sarcasm in my little brother's tone.

I took my food and moved to the love seat. I grabbed my blanket and wrapped myself up in it. Colson sat next to me. He was shoveling food down his throat. I was being a nit picker.

"You're cute when you eat," I smiled.

"Me?" he looked shocked.

"Yeah you," I felt the heat slowly rising into my cheeks.

He smiled. I felt like a teenage who had just gotten asked out by her crush. I think the alcohol was taking over me.

-

Once dishes were done, Max and Sam got packed and left for Grandma's. Colson and I were curled up on the couch. I had my head against him chest. We were watching some weird movie. His hands were caressing my side. He was inching closer to my scar.

"I want to kiss you again," I looked at him.

He smiled and kissed me. His lips tasted of tomato and garlic. I pulled away and stared. I took his hands and placed them on my cheeks. He traced my scars and down my neck.

"So pretty," he kissed my neck.

I felt an explosion erupt inside of me. I inhaled sharply as his kisses turned into soft bites. His hands took to my hips. He pulled me on top of him.

"I think the alcohol is making me feel weird," he kissed my chest.

"Alcohol makes me happy," his eyes showed pain.

"Happiness? I think I need some," I kissed him.

His tongue parted its way into my eager mouth. I couldn't help but moan a little. I felt him twitch. I tugged at the hem of his shirt.

He pulled it off. I examined his ink covered chest. Blushing I traced each and every one of them on his chest. He watched me contently.

"I take it you like tattoo art," he smiled and kissed my exposed hip.

"I'm a die hard fan," I kissed his neck.

"Do you have any tattoos?" I shook my head.

"My scars are my tattoos," I pulled off my shirt and smiled.

The extent rolled down my neck, my chest and my arm. My right side was permanently damaged. His hands fingered each flaw. He stopped at my shorts.

"Tell me a story," I saw him pull back.

"What story?" I questioned.

"The story of these?" he looked afraid.

"One condition. I can go put sweats on and you'll guard my door," I hopped off him and held my hands out.

"Fine," I smiled.

I bounced into my room. My bed was covered with my dirty laundry and my favorite pair of grey sweats.

"Help me?" I couldn't get my bra undone.

He unhooked the clasp and caressed my back. It was times like these I dream of. He kissed the crook of my neck.

I grabbed my white t-shirt and my grey sweats. I pulled the shirt on. He stepped back. I undid my shorts and let them fall to the ground. I bent over and tugged my sweats on.

"I feel like I should. Snug and warm," and possibly falling for someone.

I took Colson's hands and led him to my bed.

"It's not girly," he looked at my black and white striped bed spread.

"Nope," I laid down.

He took my Stitch bear and sat next to me. I smiled and grabbed my phone. I snapped a picture and kissed him.

"I have a daughter who would love you," he smiled.

I felt a pang in my tummy. I looked down.

"I can't have kids anymore," his eyes went wide.

His hands were shaking and he pulled me against him.

"Tell me a story about you," he laid back, still holding me.

"When I was five I used to always play with pellet guns. I ended up saving Sam's life when I first bought my 9mm after Adam left. That was pretty great on my part," I smiled.

"You have a gun?" he looked scared.

"No, not anymore. I got rid of it after the acid attack. Well Max did," I stared into his blues.

"Thank God," I kissed his chin stubble.

He smiled towards me.

"Tell me why you are so strong," I giggled.

"High school sucked for me. I was a chubby, fast and flexible kid. I had the mind of a five year old. I was a jock, or a prep. I was also a choir junkie. I played piano a lot. That was my get away drug... Well my Junior year I met Adam. Bad boy. He was my first relationship. It was like time stopped... Until about a month in he started getting abusive. Like I had bruises all over my body. His words were mean. He was mean. After high school I left him and my brother's and I bought my house. Well he would stalk me. I bought the 9. For awhile I thought I was free until one night he was in my house, with acid," I looked at him.

He was facing me. His eyes were glossy. I felt tears sting mine.

"Thirty days ago I got my face back. Twenty-five tear sobriety. I think I just broke it," I snuggled into his chest.

He held me. The first time in ages I feel whole.

"Thank you," I kissed his perfect lips.

He kissed my forehead. I pulled the blankets around us and let myself fall asleep in his arms.