Day Sixty-Seven: The Tattoo

No, we haven't talked since that day. Fuck you.

And it's not because she's been avoiding me, though, it's because I've been avoiding her. I haven't left my room, no matter how many times she's knocked on my door I don't answer. It's always the same damn knock too, and that same damn soft voice with the same damn apologies. But it's been three days, and staying cooped up here just to avoid her is once again driving me crazy.

It's- I just- gah! I can be upset, right? I feel like everything I said was reasonable, even if I hadn't said them nicely.

So why do I still feel guilty? Why does a part of me want to burst out of my room, kick down her door, and beg for her forgiveness? Why do I want to take back everything I said? It can't just be the threat of seeing her cry again, it has to be something else.

But I. Don't. Fucking. Know. What it is!

I can't think about this right now, I refuse to. I need to get out of here.

Thankfully, after being gone for the past couple of days due to some personal business, Aurora is going to be here soon to save me. She's been hard to reach, but she's replying now and will be down at the lobby in five minutes. That's all that matters.

That and figuring out how to get out of my room without running into Elsa. Curse this stupid room's design flaw of not being able to hear out of your bedroom door. Elsa's room has been eerily silent all day- not that I've been listening or anything- so maybe she's not even in there right now. Or maybe she's out in the living room.

This is...stupid. Just leave, Anna. Just put on your shoes, storm out your door, and head to the lobby. It doesn't matter where Elsa is or isn't, she doesn't matter right now. Elsa...doesn't...matter right now. Why does that sound so wrong?

I can't do this.

I can't think about this right now, or anymore. I put on my shoes, slip on a jacket, and open my door. She's not in the living room, she's not out in the hallway, she's not in the elevator, and she's not in the lobby. But someone else is.

Aurora's leaning on the back of one of the plush, velvet couches and her grin grows wider when she sees me. My eyes grow wider when I see her. In the past couple of days since I'd seen her, she's managed to shave half her head, with the remaining half of her silky, blonde hair swooped along the other side, and she's gotten a septum piercing. "Missing me already, Red?" she says in a smug tone.

I try to come up with some other smug retort, but all that comes out of my mouth is, "Y-uh, your hair!"

She chuckles and twirls a strand of it around her finger, "You like it? Kinda felt like it was time for a change."

"It's…" Oh my goodness, I can't find the right words to say, but I have to say something so it doesn't seem like I hate it. And I don't hate it. After the initial shock wore off, I'm realizing that it's really, really sexy. But I can't say that in case she takes it the wrong way. Even though I feel like I've known her long enough to know that she'd probably just say something vaguely flirtatious right back at me. Just say something, Anna, holy shit. "It's different- a good different! I like it."

"I was hoping you'd like it," she smirks and I think I see a bit of a blush in her cheeks, that might just be the lighting though. "Now come on, you ready for another great escape?"

It's then that I notice how on edge I really feel. The hairs on the back of my neck are at attention like someone's right behind me. I turn and there's no one, but I can't shake the feeling that Elsa could turn up at any moment. She could round the corner, come down the elevator, even walk right through the front door.

And right now she's the last person I want to see. I let out a groan and start walking. "Yes please…"

"You sure you don't wanna talk about it?"

"Absolutely. The less I think about my roommate-" argh, that still doesn't sound right, "-the better. It's frustrating and complicated, and I don't wanna dump all that shit on you."

"Hey, my roommate pisses me off too. He's always-" Huh, so she lives with a guy. That's...nice. "-giving me shit about rent, and doing the dishes, and staying out too late."

"Sounds more like a dad than a roommate."

She laughs, "Eww, don't make me think of him as my dad."

"Who is he anyway? Good friend? Old boyfriend?" My curiosity is going to kill me, I swear. If she has anything other than some neutral, platonic response, it might wreck me.

"Old boyfriend, yeah. Lotta history, too much to get into."

"Oh, so we have more in common than I thought," I say quickly, drowning out the screaming in my mind. It doesn't look like Aurora's happy that I brought it up either, she's got an uneasy look that I know way too much about.

I want to apologize. But before I know it, Aurora shrugs and goes back to our previous subject, "All I'm saying is if she's giving you such a hard time, then you should let me know. I can come over there and set her straight."

As amusing as that sounds, the thought of her and Elsa meeting each other also sounds terrifying. I don't understand why. Maybe it's because they're such polar opposites, that I'd doubt they'd get along. Plus, the last thing I need is for my ex-girlfriend to meet my hopefully, possibly, soon-to-be girlfriend. I really should stop being such a chickenshit and ask her out already.

"No that's okay," I tell her, "I don't want you getting too roped up in my drama."

"KInda too late for that," she replies as she sifts through her tenth stack of vinyl in this record store. Old punk-rock music plays through the speakers of this repurposed cafe, and it smells like cardboard and eucalyptus. In some odd way, the store reminds me of when Elsa and I would go thrift-shopping.

I could tell Aurora that we should get out of here, but she said she hadn't been to this store in a while. And she's got such a cute, joyful smile on her face that I don't wanna disappoint her.

So I suck it up, pawing through the same stack of records, while unhelpful memories of Elsa and I trying on dorky outfits rummage through my head. The covers are worn-out from age and heavy use, looking through the artists reminds me of music that my parents used to listen to. Classic rock bands, 80s R&B stars, and stuff like that would always be on the speakers downstairs.

"What do you think about this one?"

I look up and almost jump out of my skin when I see not Aurora, but Elsa standing in front of me holding a record in both hands. This can't be happening, there's no way she could be here, this has to be a dream or something. But "Elsa" tilts her head and looks at me concerned. "You okay there?" she says in Aurora's voice.

I close my eyes, shake my head violently, and reopen them to see that everything's back to normal. Elsa's not here, it's just Aurora looking at me. "Er, um...yeah. Y-yeah, I just spaced out there for a second. I'm good- I'm great, even, it's nice to be out of the room and doing something like this. Did you say something before?"

Aurora doesn't look convinced at all, her glossy lips are pursed- goddamn, do I want to kiss them- and she's narrowed her eyes at me. But she doesn't repeat whatever she just asked, instead putting the record back and reverting back to an amused smile. "Come on, I've got an idea," she says before grabbing my hand and leading me out of the store.

Blinding fluorescent lights, neverending buzzing noises, and the faint smell of rubbing alcohol all in one room should make me uneasy. And yet I feel perfectly fine, because Aurora swears on the good reputation of this tattoo parlor, and her hand is still in mine. That, above everything else, is what's sending chills down my spine. Good, amazing, wonderful chills.

I shift in the leather recliner for the hundredth time, accidentally squeezing Aurora's hand. "Sorry," I mutter.

Aurora giggles and pats my hand, "Don't worry, I was also pretty nervous when I got my first tattoo." She nudges her shoulder towards me, "It's this cute little butterfly right here, I was whining like a little bitch the whole time."

I decide not to tell her that the nerves are mostly from her holding my hand, on the off-chance that she lets it go. It feels like she's been holding it for forever.

I frown, "Is it gonna hurt?"

"It depends oh where you get it. The initial shock of the needle hurts a little bit, and in the softer parts of your skin it'll hurt a bit more."

"It's gonna be on my wrist. So…?"

Aurora hesitates, and then puts on a forced smile and pats my hand, "Don't worry, I'll be here the whole time."

Great, so it's gonna hurt like a bitch. It's probably too late to back out now, and I doubt Aurora would let me. And I don't want to either. Getting a tattoo has always been on the back of my mind- I've had a design picked out since I was sixteen- but I never had that impulse to finally do it. Aurora was the catalyst in a way, I guess, getting me to do what I never thought I'd get to do.

Even though I know the smile is forced for my benefit, I can't help but feel like there's something else there. In her eyes, looking down at me, I see what I think is admiration. Maybe something more. Or maybe I'm just seeing what I want to see.

"I'm glad you are," I tell her. "I've always wanted to do this, but never alone."

"Well lucky for you, I'm good at not leaving people alone," she chuckles and pats my hand again. Something about the feeling is familiar.

As the tattoo artist begins to sterilize my wrist, I look back up at the fluorescent lights and settle into the recliner even more. I wish I could finally spend time with Aurora without there being any questions or hang-ups. I turn my head to thank her again for getting me to do this. But she's not there.

It's Elsa again.

Fuck.

Her long, platinum braid dangles across a butterfly-less shoulder as she looks down at me comfortingly. That look turning into concern as she raises an eyebrow and speaks with Aurora's voice, "You okay, Red?"

I blink a couple of times, and Aurora gradually comes back. Why does this keep happening? This day was supposed to distance me from Elsa, and yet it feels like she's closer than ever. What else do I need to do to get her off my mind? "Yeah I'm okay," I respond while squeezing her hand, "The lights are just kinda bright, that's all."

"Well then just look at me, I promise I won't blind you."

I chuckle, "I know you won't." I hear the ominous buzz of the tattoo pen turning on as it gets closer and closer to my skin.

It hurts like a bitch the whole time.

Four curvy M's angled across my wrist, four silhouetted birds taking flight. It's the design I chose when I was cloud-watching in my backyard, the day after my sixteenth birthday. I can barely move my right wrist, and even though I know it's going to hurt, I'm tempted to touch the transparent bandage around my hand.

"It'll look better when it's healed. And if you stop poking at it." Aurora says as if she's read my mind, or seen me stare at my wrist since we got back to Arendelle Towers.

"I can't help it," I reply, "It just looks so blotchy and gross, I'm worried."

"That's just the blood piling up on the bandage, in a couple of days you can peel the bandage off and it'll look amazing. Trust me."

"I do trust you." Enough so, that I've decided to let her walk me past the front door, onto the elevator, and down my hallway. In a second, she'll know my exact room number; I just hope that she won't see my roommate.

Today was good, better than I was expecting but not as mind-clearing as I wanted it to be. It was nice to make another impulse decision, even if it was a permanent one. At least I had someone worthwhile to make that decision with.

It's been so long since I've stressed over dating anybody, in fact the last time it happened was- nope, fuck, can't think about her right now. I'm gonna tell Aurora I have feelings for her when we get to my door. I can't keep pussying out of this.

She makes time for me, and whatever we do ends up being fun and exciting. She's my kind of girl, I just hope that I'm hers.

"By the way, I'm gonna be out of town again tomorrow," Aurora tells me when we make it to the door. "Just for tomorrow. I'll hit you up when I get back though, okay?"

I'm so busy keeping a lookout for anyone that could ruin this moment that I almost forget to reply. "Wha-oh right, uh...yeah. Yeah, okay. I'll miss you."

She raises an eyebrow and leans on my door, "You will?"

I...well this wasn't how I planned to tell her, but I guess my mouth has decided to rebel against me. No sense in backtracking now, I muster whatever brainpower I have left to give me one last jolt of confidence. "Well of course I will, I think it's pretty obvious I like spending time with you."

Aurora toys with her hair again, and despite the teasing grin she's got on, I can definitely tell she's blushing now. Underneath the shitty hallway lights. "Well, I think I like spending time with you too."

I let out an exaggerated gasp, "You think?"

She rolls her eyes, "You know I do."

"I-" A noise from behind the door. Fuck, I freeze mid-sentence and listen for any other sounds. It sounded like feet shuffling, and then another door closing. Elsa has to be in there.

And even though she isn't out here with us, something inside me knows that the moment's passed, and that whatever suave way of ending this night I had planned is out the window. She's waiting for me, and now that I'm out of my own room, there's no way that I can avoid her anymore. I sigh, "Sorry about this Aurora, but I need to-"

Another noise, this one coming from me. A muffled squeak as I feel Aurora's lips pressed onto mine.

She's kissing me.

Aurora's kissing me.

And I'm kissing her back. We're kissing underneath the shitty dome lights, in front of Room 914, with my clear hand on her hips, and my bandaged hand running through what's left of her hair. It feels like a breath of fresh air, her lip gloss tastes like cherry.

When we part, I'm scared that I'll blink and find myself back on my bed, waking up from the most tortuous dream of my life. But Aurora's still standing in front of me, hands still on my hips, smiling at a job well done, and biting her lip. "See you in a couple days, okay?" She says like she hadn't just turned my whole world upside down and right side up.

"O...okay," I say pathetically.

She giggles and puts her hands back on her side, "Good." It's like she knows I don't have the brainpower left to say anything else, because she does the goodbyes for both of us by turning around and walking back down the hallway. "Sweet dreams, Anna," she says before turning the corner.

After a minute, I can finally breathe again. I slide down our front door, not yet finding the energy or motivation to open it, and put a finger on my lips.

Fuck...