Possession

by Johnson, A. M.

  Quotes, skulls, and a few anchors… I’d lost track of what I’d done all day. My head was full of Paige. Her voice, her mouth, her skin, the very feel of her under my fingertips. Halfway through the day I realized I could still taste her on my tongue. By day’s end, her scent started to crowd my thoughts; clean waves of soap, something inherently female, deep purple, and sexy. The buzz of my tattoo machine hadn’t provided a distraction, and my inner voice had gone missing entirely. This was how it had once been, not silence, but me. I was the only one haunting my skull. Visions of Paige beneath me, above me, my mouth on her stomach, on her thighs–everywhere, it was a welcome change from the macabre, the self-loathing, and the intruding thoughts of occasional death.

  Everyone had left for the night, except for Liam, and as I locked up my supplies, I heard him laugh.

  I raised my eyes. “Something funny?”

  He leaned against the wall of my station and watched me for a moment as I turned to fully face him. “No, not really, you have a silly ass grin on your face.”

  He didn’t give me his usual scowl, and I waited for his bullshit about Paige, but he said nothing.

  “She makes me happy.”

  “It’s dangerous, Dex, letting one person rule you like that.” He pushed off the wall and stood at his full height. His hard, brown eyes met mine and the crease between his brows deepened as he surveyed me.

  I ran my hand through my hair and held his stare. “Maybe it is... some people, Liam… some people are worth the danger.”

  I waited for him to roll his eyes, but he never did. Instead, the muscle in his jaw ticked before he said, “And you think Paige… is back for good? After what, one night with her? It doesn’t fucking work like that.” He shook his head.

  “For you, Liam, it doesn’t work like that for you.” I pointed to my temple. “It’s quiet. It’s silent and I can see things, hear things, I’m back. She’s always been able to do that for me. She gets me, always has, this isn’t a bright and fucking shiny fresh start. It’s a continuation.” Liam’s shoulders fell as I pointed to my chest. “She never left, man, she never left.” My throat started to close off and I clenched my jaw.

  Liam walked up to me, his eyes almost wet as he gripped the back of my head and pulled our foreheads together like he used to do when we were kids. He spoke in a low voice as he said, “I’m glad your back, little brother, I’m fucking glad, but I won’t lose you again, so be careful.”

  I grasped his shoulder. “I will, but someday... you’re going to have to start taking care of you.”

  He dropped his hold on me and leaned away, his eyes clouding over. “I’m fine.”

  I increased the pressure of my grip. “You’re not, and if you can’t see that… that pride… it’ll make you just like him, just like Pop.”

  He stepped back and shrugged out of my hold. “I’m…” His jaw flexed and he closed his eyes. “Shit, Dex, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” His eyes opened again and he nodded his chin to the back door. “It’s getting late, don’t make her wait.”

  The line of his jaw relaxed, and his features softened, but his eyes, they still held a stubborn edge. “Will you be okay?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Of course. I got no other choice.”

  Every light in The Gallery was on as I walked toward the back of the store. Paige’s music played through the open studio door, and I thought for a minute I’d heard her singing along. My lips curled up at the corners as my view came into focus. She was kneeling on the ground, wearing jeans and an oversized, white button up with the sleeves rolled heavily at her elbows. Her hair was piled at the top of her head, and the light caught a few of the strands that had escaped around the nape of her neck. The golden color was warm and invited me in as I stepped farther through the threshold of the studio.

  Her hand stilled above one of the canvases she was working on as I sucked in a ragged breath. There were at least twenty of them on the floor. Each canvas was a different size. Some of them were covered in different shades of gray, blue, some had warmer tones, and from where I was standing, if you looked at them as a whole they created an almost pixelated collage.

  “Paige?” Her name was a winded surprise.

  She stood seamlessly, stepping back and lacing her fingers with mine.

  “This… this is fucking incredible.” My eyes scanned the ground, soaking in the massive piece of art in front of me. Every canvas was unique in its own right, but when you looked at them all together, as one big picture, they formed a pair of eyes.

  My eyes.

  The creases were deep on either side of the oval shapes, the slope of the nose, it was me… the dark blond hair of my brow… it was all here in this multicolored assortment of paint. My eyes stared back at me from the canvases, and even without the expression of a smile, I could tell the eyes watching me were happy. They were clear, open, and alive.

  “I didn’t sleep,” she whispered. “I went home, changed, and then came straight here. I’ve been here all day.” As she said it she rubbed the back of her neck with the paint-stained fingers of her free hand.

  We both stood there, hand in hand, silent, in awe, as the expanse of talent spread out before us.

  “It’s yours,” she said and turned her head to look at me. There were blotches of blue paint on her pink cheeks. “I wanted to show you. I wanted you to see what I see when I look at you.” She raised her gaze and searched mine. “I wanted to recreate the moment… that moment when your eyes find mine… and you see me, you really see me, Declan. Everything else disappears and all I want to do is fall into you.” She laughed softly and licked her lips. “I sound crazy.” She laughed again and shook her head. “Crazy, right?”

  I kissed her instead of answering.

  I dropped our linked hands and framed her face. My thumbs tilted her head back, and my fingers pushed into the mess of her hair. Her arms wound around my neck, and her body pressed against me. I had no words, only emotion. I didn’t close my eyes as I kissed Paige. My eyes were mirrored in hers and it was then I saw her inspiration, I saw that moment when my eyes sparked and cleared and filled with just her. I saw it and as our kiss intensified, and my eyes finally closed, I let her fall into me.

  She sighed as she lazily kissed my lips, then my jaw before she asked, “So you like it?”

  I chuckled and trailed my nose to the crook of her neck. “This belongs in a gallery not my apartment.”

  “It belongs with you.” She leaned back and her lips parted with a shy smile. “If you want it, it’s yours.”

  “I love it, Paige.” My hands fell to her waist as I pulled her closer. “I’ll have one of my brothers help me move it to my place when you’re ready.” I lowered my chin, bringing my lips to hers again. I brushed them across her top lip and then her bottom as her eyes fluttered close. “You have no idea how talented you are.” I kissed her cheek as my hands slid under the thin fabric of her shirt. My palms melted against her skin, and softly caged her in place. “How talented you’ve always been…” I raised one hand and trailed my thumb along her jaw lifting her chin as her eyes opened and found mine. “Even after everything, after what you’ve been through, you still own the brush.”

  The color in her irises seemed to swirl, the illusion set by the tears that filled her eyes. I kissed a drop that escaped before our mouths collided. She moaned, and the music heated the room as the bass matched the beat of my pulse. I wanted to show her how unbelievable she was. Show her what I couldn’t formulate into sentences, smother her in feeling and flame, let it lick and burn her like she did me.

  It wasn’t long before I had her tangled on the floor, a mixture of sound, paint, and limbs. My pants pushed down, our discarded clothes shoved to the side, my body inside hers, my palms bracing her head, the cement floor of the studio cold beneath my knuckles. My teeth on her jaw, her neck, her shoulder, each wave of her hips below me clouded my control. Her small hands, her nails, her lips pressed against my skin as I sank deeply inside her
. My fingers fisted in her hair as I slipped past that line of reality and reason. The tender side of me lost to the beast as I moved above her with rough strokes. The muscles in my stomach coiled as I came. She cried out, her nails digging into my neck as her entire body tightened around me. I consumed the sound as I brought my mouth to hers. Her lips were salted and sweet as we both descended with each breath in and each breath out.

  I shuddered, despite the sticky sweat that beaded on my brow as she painted patterns along the line of my neck and shoulders. The movement made her tremble as well, and I groaned as I moved my weight onto my forearms. I kissed her mouth, the wet heat grounding me. She licked my lips as I pulled away and then settled onto my back beside her.

  She snuggled against my chest and audibly winced.

  “Shit, did I hurt you?” My brows knotted, but her giggle untied them immediately.

  “No. The floor, that’s another story… but it was worth it.”

  My hand moved under her shirt and trailed up and down her spine a few times with a firm pressure. The hem barely covered her ass, and I rested my hand just below it. The soft curve had always been my favorite spot. I didn’t care that my pants were still on, pushed well past my hips allowing the cold of the solid cement to sink into my bones, I just wanted to enjoy this, enjoy her. All I ever wanted to hear was that giggle, that sound she made when she came, and that light whispered I love you just after. No more voices, no feelings of hopelessness, or worthlessness, only Paige.

  She shivered against me, and I said, “I don’t think I completely thought this through.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t.” She shifted, kissed the cross in the center of my chest and then sat up. The reverent way her lips touched the ink, it spread warmth through my limbs every time.

  “Since we’re being spontaneous…” She lifted her left eyebrow and grinned.

  “Yeah?”

  “I want to get that tattoo, that quote we talked about.” Her grin pulled into a wide smile.

  I sat up, adjusted my jeans and then zipped them up as I asked, “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it.” She stood and I watched her with a hidden smile before I stood as well. Paige’s shirt moved with the sway of her hips exposing every curve. “And I think… I think I want this. I don’t want to wait.” She grabbed her pants and underwear, slipping them on quickly to my disappointment.

  I pulled my own shirt over my head and pushed the sleeves up to my elbows. “You want this,” I repeated.

  She nodded and cast her gaze to her hands. She fidgeted as she spoke, “I started thinking about this specific idea in the Bible, in Genesis it says God took a rib from Adam to create Eve. I used to always think that scripture was so patriarchal, but I think, in reality, it’s actually really romantic. Adam gave Eve life, I know Plath is talking about her heartbeat when she says I am, I am, I am, but you’ve given me life again, Declan, because of you, I can breathe.” I stepped toward her, my hands sliding under her shirt and encasing her small rib cage on either side. She inhaled and exhaled, proving her point. “I want the quote along one of my left ribs a few inches down from my heart.”

  I moved my thumb along the bone. “Here?”

  She nodded.

  I kissed her forehead and spoke, my lips smiling against her skin, “I can do that.” The steady tone of my voice hid the true excitement. She had no idea how much I wanted to mark her skin with my own hand. My handwriting inked into her flesh… forever… she was wrong, she was why I breathed again. Why I even existed beyond mist and hallucinations.

  Her lips pulled into a slow, broad smile. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Paige was lying on her back, her shirt was off, and her arms rested comfortably above her head. Her white skin looked like porcelain against the blood-red vinyl of my work table, the only thing that interrupted the smooth line of alabaster was her nude-colored lace bra. The hard curve of it just two inches above where I planned to place the quote. If this was like any other day, Liam would swear at me, or Kemper would make some crude comment and the picture before me would’ve rippled like the flat surface of a lake just as it began to rain. But, it wasn’t any other day, it was right now, just past one in the morning, and I was all alone in Avenues with Paige.

  She gave me a shaky smile. “Are you nervous?”

  The humor in her voice steadied my own trembling fingertip as I traced the pad of my forefinger along the rib that would bear my mark for life. “I’ve never been nervous before, but I am now.” Self-doubt crept in and I heard the whispers of shadows prickle inside my brain.

  She lowered her arm and placed her hand on my cheek. “I want this.”

  You’ll stain her.

  The familiar voice was slippery and moved easily through the wall I’d created to keep it out, the wall Paige had always made stronger, the wall that would always have holes in its armor no matter what I did.

  “Come back to me,” she whispered, and I lifted my blank stare to hers. The twisted voice in my head faded. “There you are.” Her smile was kind, filled with love, and it abated the pain growing behind my temples.

  She trusts you. She loves you.

  She moved her arm back above her head and I turned on my machine. The initial buzz made her jump and she laughed.

  I held my machine in my right hand and used my foot to roll the stool that held my ink a little closer. I took a deep breath and ran the fingers of my left hand along the rib one last time. I chose not to wear gloves. What was the point? I wanted to feel the ink and her blood on my skin. I wanted it to set under my fingernails, and tint the hard surface of my knuckles.

  “This is going to hurt,” I said and her lips began to quiver, but her eyes stayed locked on mine. It was only ink in flesh, but this meant more to me than sex, than any words of affirmation ever would.

  “I know.” The corners of her lips twitched with a smile as her nose wrinkled and her eyes clamped shut.

  Paige was giving me her body, I would always be present below the cells, inside her skin, thriving with words that gave meaning to us. I leaned over and kissed the spot just as reverently as she’d kissed me earlier back at the studio. I asked quietly, “Are you ready?”

  She nodded her head and I brought the needle to her skin as she cringed. The pain was creased along her features and her skin was goose flesh; raised, and welted pink along the edges of where I worked. The words took form along her rib in my own sloping script. She didn’t speak, just breathed through it. I was bringing her to the brink, almost to the edge of her limit, but she never broke.

  The vibration stopped and all I could hear was her heavy breathing. I set my machine down and wiped away the excess ink. She flinched, but as I brought my lips to hers, her body relaxed, unwound, and finally she opened her eyes. I pulled away with a smile.

  “You survived.”

  “Barely.”

  I chuckled.

  “Do you want see it?” I asked, as my eyes devoured the ink, and a feral pride coursed through me.

  The shadow from before was blinded by the light of her smile. “Yes.”

  I helped her up and stood her in front of the mirror. She leaned her back against my chest, raising her left arm and wrapping her fingers into my hairline. I held her right hip as her eyes scanned the phrase. Her lips moved as she mouthed the words, “I am, I am, I am.” Her eyes met mine in the mirror. “It’s perfect.”

  I was struck by the image that was reflected back at me. She was touching me, and I was touching her.

  We were one infinite line as I brought my lips to her ear and said, “This is forever.”

  This is forever…

  This is forever…

  Forever, with Declan, was the only Heaven I ever wanted to go to. My tattoo was only two weeks old, and every time I caught sight of it I’d hear him say those three words in my head. This is forever. Today was no different as I stood fresh from the shower with my towel pooled around my feet. I ran my fingers over the ink and smiled. I
’d decided, in the end, just the words were enough, I’d loved the heartbeat Declan had originally drawn, but the words, and how he had breathed life back into me—this was exactly how I’d wanted it.

  I stayed with him that night, and we’d made love until the pink rays of dawn filled his room. We’d discovered each other again, and each time, he’d show me what I was capable of feeling, what I’d been deprived of, what he’d been without, for so long. Each time, our craving for the other had become more desperate instead of sated, until we’d both lie spent, saturated in the other’s scent.

  We’d slept the day away, neither of us working that weekend. Over the weekend we’d numbered the pieces in the studio, and Liam and Kieran had helped pick them up and hang them on the blank brick above Declan’s bed. Even though Liam’s reception of me had been frosty at first, by the end of the weekend he’d come around a little more. These past two weeks, every night when I was alone, I still prayed on my knees and thanked God for bringing Declan back to me. We’d spent every night together that we could, Lana was starting to tease me about maybe getting another roommate because I was never here. Tonight I was going to his mother’s house for dinner, just me and him. He never finished framing the large piece he’d painted at the studio and he wanted to work on it.

  Seeing his mom again, after all this time, I was nervous. Did she hate me like Liam did, or would she be happy that Declan was happy? Would she even recognize me? I inhaled and exhaled deeply, watching my ribcage expand and contract in the mirror. This is forever… he wanted me in his life, and his mother was part of it. I closed my eyes briefly, and when I opened them, I stared at the woman in the mirror. Her curves were minimal, but formed, and her bones less pronounced. Her face was full, and her lips were a natural shade of rose. The eyes that watched me, that scanned each nuance, were a vibrant shade of blue. I was finally starting to see myself again. I actually recognized the woman in the mirror, her reflection, it was the “me” that had been lost, and I’d found her again.