17BLACK

Chapter 13

Louis' POV:

"This one?" He stretches his arm so I can see the skull portrait tattoo.

"I saw this at the parlor and liked it, I thought of it kind of as laughing at death in a sort of way, by making a skull look comical."

I trace over the skull, goosebumps rising on his skin. A little bit of grease wipes off on his arm.

I touch the butterfly on his stomach. "This one?"

Harry smiles and looks down to where my finger is poking his stomach.

"When I was sixteen I knew a kid, I call him a kid because he was so small but he was really my age. His name was Emmett. He had Hemophilia, it means that he bruised easily and his blood didn't clot. Emmett was one of the toughest people I have ever met. He was a bad ass, too. He loved living on the edge. If he could, he would have gotten his body covered in tattoos and piercings. He even tried once, but his mom tracked him down and he was grounded for two months."

Harry takes a breath. "I moved around a lot with my uncle, he was my legal guardian and when I first moved to Emmett's town he was the only person that actually talked to me. He dragged me to the skate park everyday, because he loved to skateboard you know, and I would sit there on the edge of the half pipe and do my homework while he rode around on his skateboard. I never talked much, but I guess he enjoyed just having someone there. I think everyone pitied him but no one was willing to be his friend because who wants to be friends with a sick guy. He couldn't go go-karting or play sports or do most things that people do. One slip could kill him. His mom didn't like him skateboarding, but once she knew I was with him all the time she relaxed a little."

Harry smiles, his eyes still on his butterfly tattoo.

"Emmett was a very competitive bloke, and he made bets with me all the time. If he won I would have to get a tattoo of his choice. He couldn't get them, so in a way I was his piece of art. My star tattoo, these," Harry points to his two matching tattoos 'things I can' and 'things I can't.

"The ship, the heart.... They're all his. They're on my body but they're his tattoos. Most of the time I would let him win the bets, because I didn't mind the tattoos and he seemed to enjoy them."

I know where this story is heading. He's using his words in past tense and I don't like it.

"One day he got in a fight with his parents. He walked out of the house and left. No one knew where he was going." Harry sighs.

"It was storming really bad outside. Like hail bad."

Harry grabs my hand that is resting on his knee. "They found his body on the half pipe. He had slipped and his head hit the edge. I got the butterfly after he died, you know in memory of him." Harry laughs lightly. "Now that I think about it Emmett would hate that I got such a fragile creature to represent him."

I squeeze his hand in mine.

"Are you afraid to die?" He tries looking me in the eyes but I'm too invested in his butterfly tattoo.

I nod. "It's the unknown, and the unknown can be scary. That's why children are afraid of the dark."

Harry chuckles. "I'm still afraid of the dark." I can't tell if he's kidding or not.

"And here I was comparing you to a teddy bear. Teddy bear's aren't afraid of the dark," I smile, returning his gaze. "When I was younger I had a bear, well it was more of a bunny really, and I thought it went on adventures when I was asleep. I went as far as video taping my room at night."