Tattward & Inkella One-Shot Contest
Title: REQUIEM
Your pen name: shalu
Characters: Alice Brandon, Jasper Whitlock, Emmett Cullen, Bella Swan, Edward Cullen, Rosalie Hale
Disclaimer: Twilight and all related characters, etc., are the property of Stephenie Meyer.
To see other entries in the Tattward & Inkella Contest, please visit the C2 page:
www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/community/Tattward_and_Inkella_Contest/71624/
Air disguised as flying dirt whipped into his face. Wincing, he held a tight grip on his left arm, blood seeping through the cracks between his fingers. His fatigues wore stains, but not all the blood was his own.
Lifting his fingers momentarily, a gush burned tiny rivulets down his skin under his sleeve. He plucked the shrapnel from the wound with a jerk, his face pinching at the movement. Red life spilled more freely now and soaked through the thick fabric. Quickly, he unlatched and removed his belt, wrapping it around his arm.
Once the makeshift tourniquet was tight, he dropped his arms. He could not get enough oxygen into his lungs. He panted, lolling his head from side to side, searching out his desolate surroundings.
He took off his sunglasses, revealing bloodshot, darkened eyes. The oddest golden hue with sharp feathers of deep red fanning about the pupil.
He was now alone. He was lost. He needed help.
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Collapsing in the chair with a resigned release of air from my lungs, I closed my eyes. I twisted my long dark hair on top of my head and knotted it into itself. This was my tenth tattoo in half as many years. My right arm would now be covered in ink. My requiem would be complete.
There were ten individual pieces on my right arm, this would be number eleven.
The cherry blossom branch was first, curving around my right shoulder, twisting around my bicep. It represents my mother. She died the day I was born, while giving birth to me, her only child. She bloomed for a day, and died. Her grace and delicacy transcends the photographs I've seen.
Growing up, my dad and I moved a lot. He and my mom had been with a traveling carnival for several years. She was a palm reader, he was an artist. He did the posters and any graphics needed. When she died, he couldn't leave it. That was where he'd met her, where he fell in love with her.
By the time I was five, he had started doing freelance work and we stopped following the carny caravan. We started traveling the world, but eventually we settled in New York. It felt like a circus, he'd said only semi-jokingly. I was fourteen.
I was sixteen when I got this first tattoo. My mind went into shock the second the needle touched me. The artist thought I'd gone catatonic. I'd just been given a mission.
An old friend once told me that evil approaches from the left, so your left side represented your armour. The right, thereby, was what you shielded. The representative of what you protect.
My mother had given me a purpose. There were people that would come along, and I would need to help them. To protect them, maybe from themselves.
The sleeve on my left arm is a koi fighting its way up a waterfall. I had them add the untraditional aspect of blood leaking from its mouth. I didn't explain to the artist, but to me it indicated fierce loyalty and a willingness to fight to my own demise to protect what I loved.
Bella emerged from the office with a half-cocked grin on her face. The Parlour was her shop, all decorated in dark wood, brocade fabrics and gilded frames. It reminded me of a Victorian den of sin. She cackled when I told her this and asked if I meant "a whorehouse." I said I liked "den of sin" better. She then insisted on having one of my largest sculptures hog up the space in the front corner. I created it during what I call my "Flashdance" phase. I did a series in metal. Welding is fun, but I damn near burned my fingers off a couple of times.
The piece in question is called "Demon" and it's taller than Emmett, her most popular artist and boyfriend's brother. I told her it would scare off customers. She'd disagreed.
"Yeah, the pussies who shouldn't be getting tattooed anyway." My best friend rocks.
I flashed her a tight smile.
"Your arm's full," she observed. "What's filling in the final grave?"
"A dragon's eyes." She understood that I'd had another dream. Her smile faded. But only for a moment. Her boyfriend Edward pushed through the door and she beamed. He walked forward, brushed her hair off her right shoulder and kissed the intricate ink vines that began at her neck below her ear. The tattoo twisted down her shoulder blade, across her back and wound around her body, finally ending midway on her inner left thigh.
"Hello, my goddess." Turning her face to his, she pressed her lips to his words.
"Get a fucking room already," Emmett groaned. "Oh wait! You have one; it's called 'Your Office'...now quit testing my gag reflex."
"I heard you didn't have a gag reflex, Deep Throat," Edward shot back.
Bella and I barely controlled a rambunctious snicker and a snort, respectively.
"I'll remember that when you want more ink, Edina. Maybe a rainbow? Or that trampstamp you always wanted? What was it? A butterfly?" Emmett stood next to my chair, towering above me.
Brothers. "Christ, Emmett," I grabbed his arm, and he looked at me. "Would you relax?"
"What? I'm just teasing. Ed can take it."
Looking back to Edward and Bella, they were practically fucking standing up. Now I was on Emmett's side. "Get a fucking room. No, really. The office, the bathroom, whatever. I'm gonna vomit here."
"I love you, Alice. Marry me?" Emmett chuckled.
"I think Rosalie might have a problem with that." His lips twisted in amusement.
Rosalie Hale. East coast celebutante from hell. Ruled all the snobby-ass Manhattan social circles thanks to her family's money. Decided she wanted to say "Fuck you" to daddy and dropped in to The Parlour to get exactly that ("Fuck you, Daddy") as a trampstamp. Emmett refused to do it. He did her instead. So, he became the perfect "Fuck you" to daddy. I was convinced she'd fuck him over royal. He was tattoo number four of my requiem. A baby bear.
She laughed when I threatened her life. She probably thought I couldn't take her. I may be small, but I'm stronger than I look and much quicker than you'd expect. The point was simply that I would not let her fuck with my family. Realizing I was serious, she backed off. Emmett was not happy with me, even if he pretended that he was only in it for the sex. One day she showed up again, and they've not been apart since. Strangely enough, they're perfect for each other. In her rebellion she found her the man of her dreams. Wet dreams, whatever...
The door flew open again and a tall, sinewy drink of water rushed past and headed straight to the back room. Must be that new apprentice Bella mentioned. She said his name was Jason? Shit, I should pay more attention. I realized I hadn't been in the shop a lot lately. The muse has been vivid and I've been hard at work on a new piece. Bella kept asking me about it when she calls even though she knows explaining a piece before it's done is impossible.
Bella pulled out of her Edward lip-tangle and shouted over her shoulder, "Thanks for joining us, Tinkerbell!" Edward snorted, his lips now attached to her collarbone.
I felt Emmett lift my arm and set it on a rest, twisting it so that my forearm was facing up. He had the largest hands, but was somehow a genius at detail-work.
"Hmm," he hummed, staring at the empty space. "I think we should let Jasper do this."
Jasper? Right. That's the new guy.
"Ooh, yeah!" Bella jumped in. "Alice, he's really coming along well. He apprenticed in Houston with Maria Castillo, before she died. Ack, that was gruesome. Have you seen her work, though? She was amazing. Fucking pioneer in the industry. She—"
"Was a fucking sociopath," a quiet rumble emerged from the back room in the apparent shape of Jasper. "She was talented, but a calculating, manipulative bitch. I'm sorry she died the way she did, but..."
He looked up to see us all staring at him. "What? Did I just piss on Elvis' grave or something? Sorry, but talent and a sparkling personality don't always go hand in hand."
"Obviously." Edward muttered.
A tsunami of anger crashed into me. My eyes darted to find Jasper's, but he was burning a hole into Edward's forehead with his gaze. I'd never felt an emotion so palpable coming from another person. I willed him to turn and look at me, but instead, his body shook with a stilling breath. The dark cloud dissipated from around him slowly.
"Jasper!" Emmett pierced the sound barrier. I rubbed my ear closest to him, hoping I didn't find blood on my fingers from a ruptured eardrum. "Let it go, man. Eddie just hasn't been laid in, like, three hours or something."
"Don't be jealous, Emma," Edward countered. "Just because Princess Upper West Side had to hit the Hamptons this week doesn't mean you can't take things into your own hands and relieve some tension. Or does she forbid you from doing so?"
Emmett looked down, cracking his knuckles and sucked his teeth. Sensing BroBrawl 2009 was about to get underway, Bella cleared her throat. The obvious indication being that Emmett should get back to the point.
"OH! Right." I love that Emmett is so easily distracted. "OK, so Jas, I was gonna complete this sleeve here on our lovely Lilliputian, Alice—" I'ma kick his ass. "—but I thought you could do it. Perfect opportunity for you to fill in a piece like this where you're blending into existing work, making it one, ya know?"
Jasper had turned to face Emmett, drinking in his words. He was lost in thought for a moment before he turned to me and stared at my upturned arm. Look at me, dammit. He wouldn't. It was like he was avoiding me.
Stepping closer, his gaze remained on the tattoos. "What is it?"
"The requiem," I said simply, and with no intention of explaining what that meant. To my surprise, he nodded in understanding. How the fuck would that just make sense? Most people scrunch their faces and utter ignorant, "what the fuck?!" noises while I mentally, or literally, roll my eyes. Jasper, however, exuded a strange and peaceful appreciation born of true insight. If I hadn't been leaning back in the chair, I would have fallen over.
Finally, before I wrote to his mama to tell her what a rude little asshole she raised, he reached his left hand to me. The overhead light backlit him and his face was shrouded in shadow. "Jasper Whitlock. Nice to meet you, Alice of Lilliput." Oh hello there, sir. Have you heard? Sarcasm will get you a punch in the taint.
I flipped him the bird. "Alice Brandon." He smiled, suddenly. Holy fuck, that is glorious. Dimples. Better than Emmett's, and his are epic. Gorgeous little face creases that completely amplified the megawatt lineup of the prettiest teeth I'd ever seen. I suddenly wanted to lick each one individually. Jesus! A second ago, you wanted to bruise his babymaker! Well, hell...no one ever accused me of being consistent.
"No one ever gets away with Emmett nicknames but Emmett," Bella observed, too late for Jasper's initial benefit.
"So I gather." He dropped his hand and the direction of his gaze, backing away.
"Not up for the challenge?" I asked. He stopped and his eyes found mine, blazing. Not angry, but alive. Thrumming with energy, emotion, and a million things I couldn't categorize. His face no longer in shadow, I saw them clearly for the second time in my life.
The dragon's eyes. Plumes of scarlet red fanning into rich gold.
My heart thudded to the point of pain. Blood pulsed quicker through my veins. Stray tears cast themselves from my tear ducts. A rush of air from my lungs kickstarted the room back into motion, though I hadn't quite realized it had stopped.
"There is no challenge but to survive."
How can this be him? I never react this way. My throat was dry, and my fingertips had gone numb. When I realized Emmett was the baby bear, I leapt and straddle-hugged him. I was just happy to find my latest ward. He groped my ass then, but I was so elated I let him. Big hands feel nice, anyway.
But right now? I was terrified. Rigidly staring into the dragon's eyes, I fell. Ass over elbows. In love.
WHAT?! This isn't right. This isn't right at all! I'm not supposed to fall in love. I'm supposed to complete my requiem, and my purpose is fulfilled. Did I read the signs wrong? Have I completely misunderstood my reason?
"That was a yes." Jasper was holding my stare like a defiant fish in a net.
"What?" I snapped, reacting to his statement like he'd answered my internal questions. "I mean...good."
That smile again. All pretty teeth, flashing eyes, and those goddamn edible dimples. Guh. It gon' kill me ded. Emmett snickered, yanking a stool from the next station and dragging it over.
"Get your machine," Emmett ordered him. "I'll shave her."
"No," Jasper said, clipped. "I'll do it."
My ladybits got all excited at the possessive nature of his response. Calm yourself. No visitors to Wonderland today.
"Ain't that kind o' shave, bro," Emmett joked, but the Bits were wracked with a tiny happyquake at the thought of a Jasper visit. At least they're not confused.
Jasper got ready, setting up his machine and supplies at Emmett's station, while Emmett prepped the colors and copied the stencil onto the transfer paper. I closed my eyes and listened to the clinks, the whirs, the scrapes, the pops. Then I felt his hands on my arm, and my lids raised. As he slid the razor over my skin, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. His hands were cold beneath his gloves.
Emmett handed him the transfer, which he stared at as though he knew everything about it. My stomach clenched into a tight ball as the recognition in his stare was swallowed hard down his throat. He turned almost unwillingly and ogled the sketch that hung behind Emmett's head. He blinked several times in succession. Alarm fleetingly lit up his features and then was gone. Whatever he was thinking, he didn't say it out loud.
But I saw questions when he circled back to me. Shock. Bubbling resentment. Anticipation? Okay, maybe that was just me. But maybe not...
He placed his eyes—the dragon's eyes—on my arm, spritzed over it with water, and slowly peeled back the wet paper. I spun my eyes to look closer. Perfect.
"Nice." Emmett approved. He went on to explain his idea for the shading around the eyes, to make them blend with the background of the entire sleeve. Jasper nodded, though he countered with an idea of his own. They compromised a better plan between the two and looked to me for approval.
"I do my art; you do yours," I assented.
Emmett hovered for a minute as Jasper peered at the mirror on my arm. He abruptly shot up and snapped his gloves into place, a wave of fear crashing over me. Not mine. His. Emmett quickly rolled back and took a swig from a flask. I eyed him. He shrugged. "Takes more than that to affect me, girl." He wagged his eyebrows.
The buzz began and work was finally underway. Bella and Edward disappeared to her office. I hoped to God they kept it down this time. Last time I was around and they closed that door, it sounded like a rehearsal for Wild Kingdom versus Jurassic Park. And fuck, it had made me horny. And then Alice did a bad, bad thing. OK, so one-night-stands were not so horrid. I mean, my relationships were usually respectful and based on a mutual need for physical release, rather than anything emotional. That said, I was not one for random encounters. I just didn't do emotional with men. I had work to do. My emotions end up as a sculpture, or part of my requiem. Never in bed. That one-nighter, however, landed me in the hospital. In turn, however, it landed him in the morgue. Emmett, my big bouncing baby bear, beat him within an inch of his life, and he died from his injuries. How Emmett avoided jail time for that, only Rosalie knows. I knew then that I truly accepted Miss 5th Avenue.
"So, why the eyes?" Jasper spoke almost confidentially over the hum, patiently inking a border.
"It's the last strain of my requiem." My eyes were on the needle.
"Are they supposed to be sad? Angry?" I thought about it for a moment. It was not anger. There was a bit of sadness, but it wasn't what I saw, exactly. Was it hope?
"Lost," I said. "Lost, but hopeful."
The clicking buzz stopped, but a hum of the machine off my skin floated on the air. I looked to his eyes, and he to mine. "Are they looking for you?"
The barest hint of a smile tickled my tailbone. But then I got pissed. "Are you fucking with me? Do you think this is funny?" I didn't know why I suddenly felt so angry. His eyes reflected amusement. Now it's even funnier. Awesome.
"BELLA. FIRE THIS GUY." I didn't mean it, but I think he figured that out because he full-out guffawed. She couldn't hear me, anyway. I heard Emmett mumble something about "definitely not firing anyone who can piss off the eighth dwarf like that." I'ma beat him within an inch of his life. Rosalie cannot save him now.
Jasper's hands settled back on my arm. They were warm now. Heat was building in the pit of my stomach. This guy had me all over the place. This was so not me. I went from intrigued, to in love (WTF?!?), to pissed, to turned on, to connected, to completely aroused...am I still thinking about this?
QUIT. THINKING.
"Yes."
"Yes, what?" His dragon eyes flitted briefly to meet my darkened grey ones, and lowered them back to the task at hand.
"They're looking for me."
He didn't look up this time. "How do you know that?" The buzzing circled in veering whirrs and hums. He was adding shading to the subtle scales around the eyes. Not with color yet, but with black.
"I just do."
He was silent as he worked for the next fifteen minutes. "I know." It was so quiet I barely heard it. He hadn't looked up when he said it, nor was there any other indication but the hushed murmur. I watched him intently now as he worked. The way his brows furrowed in concentration, the muscles in his arms contracting and sliding back and forth underneath his painted skin.
I noticed then the dragon swirling itself up and around his arm, across his shoulder, smoke and flames lapping at his neck. Within the jaws of the dragon, you could see the remains of a thick scar.
My heart sped up, and I felt sweat beading on the small of my back. How had it taken me this long to see it? I'd kept looking for his eyes. My breathing hitched as my mind raced to catch up with my body.
"Are you okay?" He asked, before even looking up.
"How do you know?" I panted, desperate to keep control of myself.
He stopped tattooing. "Do you want me to finish this or not?" His face was apoplectic, but so fucking sexy.
Emmett looked up from his magazine (Penthouse. I could only assume he was checking to see if his letter had been published.) and sighed. "Dude. Do you need a break? First rule of tattooing...well, okay, maybe not first, but it's a good one: DON'T. TATTOO. ANGRY."
I giggled softly. I was suddenly reminded of Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, "Don't drive angry!" I beamed a smile at Emmett, who smirked back at me and winked. My grin faded when I saw Jasper's gaze had never left my face. I tried to take a deep breath, but my lung capacity remained shallow as my heart maintained its railing course. The lower back of my shirt was dampening still. Let's not talk about my panties getting in on the party. 'Cause they are.
"Don't stop, Jasper," I whispered, my voice taking on a life of its own. I heard the longing, the want, the...breathe deep...love, and lust. I knew the requiem culminated with him. I was only beginning to understand, however, that my life would not end with it. I wasn't about to commit hari kari or some crazy shit like that, but my life has been a search for so long...I had begun to wonder whether I might just not wake up once my arm was full, and I completed my mission, for lack of a better word.
Looking into my dragon's eyes, I knew I would not end. I would begin. Really, truly begin.
"I'ma get a corndog on the corner. I'll be back..." Emmett announced after clearing his throat, indicating his sudden discomfort, and muttered the addition "...in a coupla days."
After he'd left, Jasper leaned in so close I thought he might kiss me. He didn't. He dove headfirst into my eyes and read me toe to tip. He must've been fire because I was burning alive, and the moisture on my skin was surely rising away as steam. I felt his inhale pull me in, his eyes closed. "Alice."
I was instantly transfixed, frightened of what he might say. So I repeated my plea, "Don't stop. Please."
Without looking at me, he pulled back and poised the machine to continue his work. The clacking buzz returned with the biting sensations of the needle. Leaning my head back against the chair, I sighed and shut my eyes. I focused on my breath, trying to slow it down. My body was betraying everything. I was sweating, panting, and flushed. I was normally an incredibly calm, cool, and collected tattoo recipient.
Before I knew it, the outline and black shading was complete.
"Do you need a break?" His sweet southern lilt caressed me.
"No, please just finish it." I tilted my head and met his questioning eyes. "Unless you do."
He seemed to think for a moment, taking a slug of water from his Sigg bottle. "I'm fine." I felt washed with a cool breeze of calm. He set the bottle back on the counter and winked at me. He winked! WTF?!
As he worked in the colors and blends, I disappeared inside my thoughts. I drifted back to the dream that found Jasper lost, hurt, and alone. I reflected on the anger he held now, and wondered how I was supposed to help him. This being my final charge, the climax and the denouement together, a conclusion to the story illustrated on my right arm, it seemed it should be monumental. I had no idea where to begin. With the torrent of emotion he extracted from me, I could barely compete with the irrepressible lust, not to mention every other unruly reaction my body and heart could produce. How, then, was I supposed to come to his rescue?
My doubts swam around me, and I completely missed Emmett coming back in and checking out the piece. From underneath leagues of musings and notions, I heard the gurgle of their brief conversation. I felt nothing but the brush of his hands across my arm, the proximity of his body's heat to mine. Occasionally his fair locks would brush against my fingertips when he bent down to closely inspect his inkings. I had to fight my instincts to stop myself from weaving my hand into his hair.
Although I may have appeared calm, my skin was still on fire. My heart was still pumping wildly, though I'd managed to get my breathing under control. Why my heart wouldn't follow, I didn't know, but at least I had the one veil.
"We're going to get some dinner," Bella announced, trailing Edward out of her office. "Emmett, you have an appointment coming in about a half hour, yes?"
I heard a happy grunt of agreement. Allowing my eyes to open in God knows how long, I squinted a bit until dragon's eyes came into focus. Not those on my arm, but Jasper's. My breathing began to speed up again. Fuck!
Bella's lean frame popped into my periphery, and I tore my gaze from the wonder before them. "Need something, Ali?"
Edward snorted, "Yeah, I think she needs a pack of cond—UGH!" Before he could finish his crude remark, Bella had lightly punched him in the stomach. "Damn, woman, you wore me out; now you have to beat me up, too?"
"You love it," she murmured in his ear, before turning her head to me. "Alice, anything?"
What could I say? Uh, yeah, get me a ventilator, a fan pointed at my crotch, and since Edward mentioned it, some condoms would be great. No lube needed. REALLY. "No, thanks, Bell."
"You guys are horndogs," Emmett observed, as Edward had pulled Bella into him and ran his hands all over her ass.
"Look who's talking!" Edward was being pushed backward out the door, but still up for bantering bullshit with his brother.
"I didn't say I'm not, but I guess I'm just really proud you're not the little pansy I once thought you'd grow up to be!" Emmett waved at their retreating forms, Edward still talking. "Kid has always been easy to bait."
Emmett disappeared to the back room for supplies. I looked back to my arm, where Jasper was nearly finished. "Wow," I said softly, noticing the incredible color-work he'd done. He really was talented. What else can he do with those long, slender fingers? Shit, I really can't control myself around him.
"Hmm," he hummed, twisting a corner of his lips into a smirk. "I take it you approve?"
"Yes." Shit, that came out a bit breathy. He chuckled lightly.
"I'm about done." He dipped the needle in the yellow ink, pushed it into the edge of the inked eye and swirled it around a bit, before wiping it off with the cool cloth. He cleaned up the excess ink and the little bit of blood, before leaning back. "Take a look."
I was looking. At him. Again. Maybe I should just jump him and fuck him out of my system.
Wait, no; I'm supposed to help him.
I don't know, that might help him A LOT.
I don't think he has a problem getting laid. Or at least, he shouldn't.
Fuck, he's staring at me. I bent my arm in front of me and was immediately lost in the eyes made of ink. "Perfect." I released the word like a breath held too long. It was an exhale, a relief, an finale.
"Then why do you look so sad, Miss Alice?" The southern drawl thickened, along with his cute-ass grin.
My eyes snapped up and he captured them. "Not sad. Stunned." I smiled back.
"So, are they lost? Lost and hopeful?" Long, graceful fingers traced my arm on either side of the tattoo.
I didn't look at my arm when I answered his question with a question. "What do you think?"
Still for a moment, he finally replied. "They're not lost anymore. At least I don't think so. I think they found something they were looking for."
That was when my heart crashed right through my ribcage.
"What were they looking for?" I hoped fervently that I didn't sound as short of breath as I felt.
He supported his weight on his forearms and was infinitely closer to me, his breath tickling my neck. "I thought we covered this? You said yourself, they were looking for you."
Fuck. Me. No, really! Fuck me!
"I didn't know," I managed to squeak out. "I mean, I still don't know why."
"I'm beginning to figure it out." We were no longer talking about my tattoo. Well, we were, but...it was beyond that. Silence engulfed us, but the air was thick. I lifted myself off the chair and watched his lips closely. They were full and very appetizing, parted ever so slightly. The breath that drifted over them hit my chin, and I felt as if I'd just been knocked out.
Our noses touched gently, sending shockwaves across my skin and straight to a tiny bundle of nerves that was screaming for attention. My lungs sucked in air, breaking the silence. My tongue licked across my lower lip, about to reach out and connect with his. His forehead rested against mine, forcing me to gasp and lift my line of sight so that it aligned with his once again. The dragon was peaceful. I was overwhelmed.
His hand had found the small of my back and pulled me toward him. There was so little space left.
I felt lips against my lips. A hand on my neck, under my chin, fingers resting behind my ear. A warm, sweet tongue glided along my top lip. I shivered. The hand on my lower back pulled me impossibly closer. My left arm wrapped around him and held him against me, pressing up until my fingers were in his hair. My requiem hung limp and forgotten over the armrest. A soft moan hummed into my mouth. These movements and sensations drew together, seducing my very soul.
"WHOA, little one, we only accept payments in cash!" Motherfucking cockblocker, thy name is Emmett.
I'd jumped slightly at Emmett's interruption, but Jasper didn't move. He didn't let go. His lips never left mine, they only stilled. I felt a thundercloud of irritation rumble over me, though it was for Emmett. His eyes opened slowly and he pulled back from me a distance surely no more than millimeters. "She doesn't owe me anything."
"No." I spoke quietly. "I'm payi—"
"Jas, as much as I'd love to tatt all my friends for free, we need to buy groceries more." Emmett lectured.
The door burst open with Emmett's next appointment. "Garrett! How are ya, bitch?" Emmett's voice was twice as loud as before. Jasper and I winced, gasping in stereo.
"Better, now that I'm about to get some more work done on this backpiece, dickhead," Garrett responded before slap-hugging Emmett.
"Have a seat, princess, while I get a station set up. Jasper was using mine, so we'll use his," Emmett said, before going about prepping Jasper's chair.
Jasper, who still held me close, released his grip and I almost fell off the chair, but I caught myself on the armrest. "You're not paying for this," he reiterated.
"Yes. I. Am." I couldn't help it. I smirked as I said it.
"I can't let you do that." His expression was amused, but serious. "I already owe you too much."
I was silent. I reached into my back pocket for the cash I'd withdrawn on my way here. I forced the bills into his hand. "That's not about money," I told him, and I slipped backwards off the chair. He eyed me, so far from him now.
"I'm heading to the studio," I announced. "Thank you, Jasper. It's perfect. Truly."
Twisting quickly on my heel, I spun out of The Parlour and practically tapdanced down the fucking street. Yes, yes, my ladybits were stomping their feet, but what was I supposed to do? Have sex in the middle of the tattoo shop in front of Emmett and his client? He'd really dig that, actually.
I didn't even leave my number. Shit. Really thinking things out today. What could I say? The man scrambled all my channels. I DO know where he works, so it's not like I can't get a hold of him. And I'm sure...fuck, I screwed up. Should I go back?
Before I could resolve my internal argument, I was standing in front of my studio, key in hand. Sighing, I opened the door and went in. I shuffled back toward the work in progress. I stopped dead.
It was exactly as I left it, but I realized now what it was becoming. The wire skeleton twisted and gyrated toward the high ceiling out of the base where broken green, gold, and red tiles glittered along the bottom.
It was a dragon. A coiling, writhing, firebreathing dragon. Incredibly similar to the one winding around Jasper's right arm. I'd started this piece two months ago. I'd only had the dream of Jasper less than a week ago.
I shook off the strange feeling it gave me and moved toward my supply and huge workbench. I detached my keys and wallet chain from my belt and put everything in the felted bowl Bella made me during her knit-a-thon six months ago. It was supposed to be a hat. Then she washed it. It's pure wool.
I slipped out of my jeans and pulled on the men's boxer briefs I preferred to work in. Bella laughed when she caught me in them the first time, fearing she'd performed a coitus interruptus. I giggled, explaining it was my uniform. Tank and boxer briefs. During my days at LaGuardia Arts High School, I got in trouble a lot for being "underdressed."
I worked to continue fill the wire frame with mixtures of newspaper, plaster bits, and various fillers. Eventually, I would coat the frame with plaster and tiles, like I'd began at the base. I threw myself into working, my hands becoming filthy and covered in materials.
I couldn't tell you how long I disappeared into the dragon—I don't keep a clock in the studio because, honestly, I don't want to know. My mind was occupied but at the same time, since I was visualizing this dragon, I was thinking of Jasper at the same time.
A knock startled me. I gaped at the door across the space for long enough that the caller knocked again. Louder.
I tripped across the floor, stumbling down from the platform the sculpture was fastened to. I wiped my hands on my tank absentmindedly and pulled the door back. The hangchain stopped it at a five inch gap.
"Jasper."
"May I please come in?" His voice was gently pleading, stroking my spine with velvet and silk.
I gingerly closed the door to release the chain, then pulled the door back open. He quickly stepped through, always facing me. After I'd closed and rechained the door, I turned to catch him taking in my clothes, or lack thereof.
"I work better in less."
His eyes focused on my bottoms. "Whose are those?" There was accusation there, jealousy. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I was completely turned on. Again.
"Mine," I answered, matter-of-factly.
"Before that?"
"Bergdorf's," I snapped. His eyes softened and became sad.
"I'm sorry." He looked away. "I'm a little...out of sorts today."
I laughed. "I understand." I noticed he held some things in his hand. He saw me looking.
"You ran out before I could wrap up your tattoo," he said, holding up the bandage and ointment.
"OH!" I couldn't believe how discombobulated I'd become since first being in his presence. "Right. Of course. Please, do me."
My face reddened as soon as I stopped speaking. He smirked. I blinked my widened eyes and mumbled for him to follow me. I led him over to the workbench where I hopped on a stool and held out my arm. He had trouble keeping his eyes off mine as he cleaned off the tattoo, smothered it with A&D, and covered and taped it.
He smiled as tossed the remainders of his supplies in the nearby trashcan, his eyes on me. I returned the smile, feeling my heartbeat begin to thunder again. My face went up in flames and the burn rippled over my skin. He was so close, but not close enough.
My hands were on his hips pulling him between my legs before I could even think about it. His grin widened, his teeth descending from behind his lips. Those lips. I want those lips on mine...So they were. He kissed me, as if in response to my fevered thoughts.
I was trapped contentedly within his arms, my fingers snaking through his curls. The kiss grew in intensity, our tongues were dancing wickedly. My legs betrayed my patience and locked around him. He lifted me off the stool, gripping my ass with his delicious hands. He set me on the workbench and began sucking his way down my chin and neck. I panted, my loud gasps echoing up the walls and bouncing off the ceiling.
I felt a tugging at the bottom of my tank, and pushed back to relieve us both of it. I reciprocated and yanked his tank over his head, tossing it aside. My bra was quick to follow.
Now skin to skin, we attacked each other's mouths with increased need. Muffled hums and moans piled up and rolled around the room as we tried to devour each other. Hands trailed over backs, ribs, breasts, hips. I fell back slowly onto the table, Jasper following me down, poring over my skin, my body, with his eyes. Then his lips, his tongue, his hands. Caresses, licks, nibbles, kisses...I was slowly going crazy with lust.
"Jasper..." I couldn't think straight. "Oh God..."
His mouth continued its journey to my belly button, licking a circle around its edge. I moaned and he pressed his lips into it. I felt his fingers curl inside the waistband of my boxer briefs and freeze. I looked down with a "WTF?!" look on my face to see his question. My face fell into a yes. I popped my hips up and he stripped me bare.
"So fucking magnificent," toppled over his tongue and through his lips. He shot forward and met my mouth again with his, ferociously taking my kiss and my breath. I thrust myself against him, feeling my center throb with desperation. For him. He broke his lips from mine and slid his chest along mine stopping only to plant openmouthed kisses on my nipples, which tingled and peaked.
My mind was completely scattered by the time he reached Wonderland. Kisses and licks, nibbles and rubs, his lips and tongue worked me until I came undone. Came being the operative word. My legs trembled around him as my back arched off the table. I cried out repeatedly, euphoric, breathing fast and desperate for more.
I pushed up to sit, perched on the edge of the table, relishing the feel of his body as he brushed against me slowing raising to meet me face to face, mouth to mouth. My skin was buzzing with the electricity of my orgasm as I kissed him. I tasted myself on his tongue, and was surprised by how absolutely erotic I found it. Apparently he enjoyed it, too, because his chest rumbled with a growl that I swallowed. That, and I could feel his appreciation pushing the limits of his jeans.
"More," I begged against his lips, grabbing at his button-fly. "I want more of you..."
"Ask and ye shall receive." I felt his smile as he reached into his back pocket and retrieved a foil packet and held it in front of me. "Present from Bella, along with the address of this place."
I giggled and tore it open with my teeth as he unfastened the barrier between us. His face was shadowed with a doubt as he whispered, "If you're not sure...you can stop me now."
"Never," I shot back hungrily. "I'll never stop you, Jasper. Please..."
I reached down and rolled the condom on. Silent promises passed between our eyes, riding on love and a million other emotions that couldn't possibly be described even if I tried.
He lifted me off the table, and I wrapped myself around him. My body inched down his. One arm gripping around my hips, he aligned himself with me with the other hand. He grinned mischievously as he let me envelop him at a maddeningly prolonged pace. I threw my head back, and he took the invitation to feast on my neck, nibbling on my throat and jaw and around to my earlobe to suck.
He stumbled back, and circled until my back found the wall.
"Yes!" I screamed when he pushed fast and hard, complete inside me. "Oh, God, YES!"
He moved, he pushed. I pushed back, I wiggled, I swiveled my hips. His groans turned to growls as our motions became urgent. My body was constricting from within, tightening and compressing from the center. I whimpered and bit at my lip, my fingers raked his shoulders and back, my short nails surely leaving reddening trails. He hissed in response, drawing in air, but releasing a guttural wail.
"Alice...fuck," he muttered, slamming my hips with his.
"Yes! More! Harder! Oh my God, Jasper..." My voice broke, my throat almost hoarse.
One of his hands left my hips and thrust itself into my hair, gripping savagely as we hurtled towards the finish. I could feel his tension about to snap. My entire body began to quake, rapture crashing through me. As I rode the waves, his orgasm collided with mine, both of us erupting in a gale of howling (and maybe a string of obscenities) that might've shook the foundation.
I chuckled as his knees gave way and we collapsed to the ground behind him, his head hitting a bit hard. "Fuck!...wow...damn..." I laughed louder this time, falling to rest on his chest.
"I couldn't agree more." My voice was muffled by his chest, which rose and fell in time with my own breathing, only mirrored. I inhaled when he exhaled. We didn't speak for a while. I was content. I felt nothing but happiness radiating through me. I assumed that was coming from him as well. Our heartbeats steadied and slowed.
"Do you want to get cleaned up?" I asked, suddenly thinking of being naked on my studio floor. I'm not a pig, but I don't have a maid, for fuck's sake, so it might not be pristine...
"Uh, sure?" I stood and helped him up, both our legs a little unstable. I gripped him at his hips. "You got a shower here?"
"I sure do," I confirmed, nodding my head in the opposite direction. I moved one hand to offer to him, but before I could, he'd encased it in his own.
I led him to the bathroom up the stairs to the loft area, where there was a small bed area and huge bathroom. "We could've been on a bed? Well fuck me."
I snickered at that. "Again? How 'bout in the shower first? Unless you want to take a bath..."
His eyes went wide with a childlike glee at the mention. Maybe it was just the fact that he didn't want to stand up that long. Whatever it was, I was all for it. I released his hand long enough to turn on the water, giving him the overdue moment to dispose of the condom.
"Bubbles, sweetthang?" I inquired with a smirk.
"As long as you don't tell Emmett I like bubble baths," he said with a wink. Guh, stop doing that or I'll crotchsplode all over again.
"Emmett loves bubble baths, though he told me not to tell. WOOPS!" I joked. Actually, I didn't because Emmett accidentally admitted it to me one night when we were all pretty shitfaced. He said that the bathtub skit on Sesame Street was his favorite as a kid, and his mom even bought him a rubber ducky for his bath time. When I asked if he still had it, he yelled, "OF COURSE! I can't take a bubble bath without Howard!" After it came out, he slapped himself trying to cover his mouth and tried to buy my secrecy.
"Excellent." Jasper was holding his stomach as he laughed. He slipped his arms around my waist as I leaned over to drizzle the gel under the tap. "Better keep your arm out of the water, milady. Proper tattoo aftercare and all..."
I spun and held him. "Thanks for the reminder, milord. I wouldn't dream of getting it wet."
"You're evil." He kissed any forthcoming words out of my mouth.
Once surrounded by bubbles, I rested my tattooed arm on the edge of the tub, and rested back against his chest, my head on his shoulder. His fingers danced lightly over my exposed tattoos.
"So..." he began awkwardly. "What was the first?"
My face turned so that my forehead rested against his stubbled chin, my eyes hooded and relaxed. "The cherry blossom branch."
"Who? Or should I ask, what?"
"My mother. She died giving birth to me."
"Blossom and die." He whispered it. I thought I must have imagined it. He felt me tense. "What? Did I say something wrong?"
I hesitated.
"I'm sorry, Ali—"
"No, no..." I stopped him. "It's just...that's exactly how I think of her. She was delicate and ethereally beautiful. My dad always said she was worth every second of the few short years he knew her, and that 'being pregnant with me was her shining moment.' That always made me feel good, even if it might not have been true."
His head tipped away as he placed a soft kiss on my shoulder, atop the cherry blossom. We talked through the other tattoos and finally came to the last.
"And this..." His voice trailed off as his hand rested lightly over the bandaged area.
"Is you." Reflexively, I nuzzled further into his neck, my submerged hand entwining in his.
"Why?"
"I dreamed of you. Like I dreamed of every one on my arm." I quietly detailed what I saw and went silent. I listened to every point on my body touching his, wondering what response the information would elicit from him. I received only calm. It was minutes before he spoke again.
"You've kept me waiting a long time," he said, finally, kissing my temple.
"What?" I slid across him, craning my neck to see his face. "I kept you waiting? How's that?"
I must've sounded adorably outraged, because he laughed at me, his chest kicking against me. "I went into the army looking for something, though I didn't know it at the time. When I enlisted, my dad told me I would find myself. I'd had no idea what I wanted to do except draw, and he wasn't the most open to artistic careers, so I figured, why the hell not?
"But not knowing what questions you're trying to answer helps fuck all, so eighteen months in, I was still confused and fucked up as I'd ever been, but in a war zone. Only now, I was bitter. After I got wounded and discharged, my dad and I couldn't have a civil conversation. Two months after I'd got back from the VA hospital, he died."
"Jasper..." My voice surely conveyed my sadness for him, for that situation, but he shook his head.
"No, don't pity me. I didn't get to say goodbye, and I didn't get to apologize for blaming him. It was my own choices that put me in a shittier situation and it only got worse from there. My mother moved to Arizona to retire, but I wanted to stay in Texas. I'd gotten my first tattoo just after basic training on my first weekend leave home; the Whitlock crest on my left arm." He lifted his shoulder as I whipped my head around to look.
His family crest was his shield.
"Maria did it. I had sketched it for her to do and she thought my illustration was quote, 'fantastico!' So, she offered an apprentice spot when I got out."
I wiggled around and sat on my knees, facing him. "I'm still not getting how you knew..."
"Have I finished?" He pushed forward and my legs unfurled and placed themselves around him. My left hand slid up his slick chest, fingertips appearing from beneath the disappearing bubbles. I shook my head and pursed my lips.
"Obviously, I took the job. I was still restless and frustrated after my dad's death, and my mom running off to Phoenix. For the longest time, I felt like I'd never figure anything out, or feel like I had any purpose or direction...and then..."
He lifted my chin to capture my eyes with his own. I fell helplessly into the golden depths, brushed by red feathers as I plummeted. "You walked in. It was like Fate told Emmett to let me do your tattoo. As soon as I touched you, it all clicked." He kissed my lips tenderly, and spoke against them. "I was looking for you."
Tears fell instantly, before I had time to register that I would cry. "I didn't know I would fall in love with you." As soon as the words left my mouth, I froze. I realized we hadn't made any such declarations. I was full of mistakes today, it seemed. Was this another?
He was unfazed. "Why?"
"I just thought I was supposed to help you...somehow." I was reeling.
"You did. You are." I felt his lips move to my forehead. "And stop freaking out. I love you, too. I think I always have. I've just had to wait to actually find you."
I let out a sigh the size of...Texas. Internal giggle.
"So, can I ask...?" He began tentatively, his strong arms folding around me. My arms rested atop his, the fingers of my right tangling in his hair.
"Anything. Ask me anything. Always."
"Why do you call it a requiem if no one has died except your mother?"
I pondered it for a moment. "I don't really know. It started that way, but maybe it's become a requiem for the life that is over now. My life begins. With you."
A/N: Quick edit to thank Twowackykids for helping shape the idea and whittle away the cheese (you know of what I speak *gag*), and also to Nfglrygrl for editing supafast. U is the bomb. Mal, too, for her help with early feedback. UU, i hearts u all. if not for you, i prolly wouldn't write my fics at all!