Genius (CENTURIES series: Book #2)

31

Mia opened her eyes and felt a body lying next to her, the dip of the bed alerting her. After adjusting her eyes to the light, she looked to her side and saw Eli sleeping heavily on his back, one hand lying on the pillow next to him, the other resting on his stomach. The rises and falls of his chest and the quiet breaths falling from his parted lips told her he would be out for a few more hours, sleeping off the alcohol from yesterday.

Mia laid there watching him for a long time, her eyes traveling across all of his art. As peaceful as he looked, his art was a constant image of quiet turbulence.

The ink that stretched across his skin like a virus looked beautiful in the golden forenoon light seeping in through the curtains. Mia had looked so many times at his ink, tried to imagine him sitting in a chair somewhere, getting it done. How long had it taken all together? How painful had it been, especially the tattoos that curled around his neck and skull?

Mia looked at her own tattoo and let her fingers brush against the outlines of it. It had almost healed now, but it had hurt. She wasn't squeamish when it came to pain (which perhaps was a good thing when being around Eli), but she had to admit, sitting there getting ink imbedded into her skin for nearly 30 minutes had hurt.

She could only imagine how much pain he had gone through to decorate his body.

That of course led her to the thought of how shallow she had been back then. What kind of person would sit through hours and hours of hard pain, just for the hell of it? Just to look good in some ink? No. They had their reasons. People with tattoos. Reasons you couldn't possibly understand unless you took your time to actually ask. Sadly, so many people were too busy judging to stop and ask; They looked at tattoos like they were graffiti, not art. Mia was ashamed to have been one of them once.

With a sigh she slowly sat up, running a hand through her hair, her fingers getting stuck in stubborn knots. Eli had really messed it up good last night. Her fingers traced down her cheekbone to her lips, feeling how they still felt a little sore. It was a wonderful sensation. It felt as if she could still feel him there, kissing her with that mouth of his...

"What are you doing?"

Startled, Mia turned her upper body and saw that Eli had opened his eyes and were watching her through heavy, tired lids. Even then, he looked beautiful. "Nothing. Just... thinking."

"Do you always rub your lips when you think?"

"Sometimes."

"Bull."

She couldn't help but blush and look away. "I was thinking about you, okay?"

He sighed tiredly. "No need to. I'm here, aren't I?"

Maybe physically. But was he here emotionally? "I'm going to go take a shower."

He made a sound that told her he had heard her, but that was all. His tired lids closed again, and so Mia took her silk robe and wrapped it around her naked body. She then walked into her bathroom and started the shower, before dropping her robe to the floor and stepping in. The water felt good against her skin and massaged away some of the tension that was left from yesterday.

She was slightly sore down there, but like the sensation on her lips, it was a pleasant ache. She washed and rinsed herself thoroughly, and then she just stood there for a long while, thinking.

A lot of cards had hit the table yesterday. All this time Eli had been holding up his poker face, and now as it turned out, she finally knew the whole of it. Why he was the way he was.

You could blame C.E.N.T.U.R.I.E.S for a lot of it, there was no question there. But he was someone before C.E.N.T.U.R.I.E.S showed up and took him away. He had just been a boy, but even small minds had big thoughts. He had been an orphan. Thoughts of his parents had to have been going through his head. Where did he come from? Why did they give him up? Were they still alive? If so, would they, as he had said, ever come back for him?