My body is my temple. It is my decision how to decorate it. If you don't like it, fuck off.
Logan gently traced a line down her spine, electing a shiver, and causing goosebumps to appear. He watched her breathe in and out, noticing how her muscles moved and flexed under her skin. He loved her in clothes, especially his, but nothing beat her laying on the bed nude. They hadn't even talked about sex, and she'd stripped out of her jeans, "I'm What Willis was Talkin' 'Bout" shirt, and underwear, and practically jumped him.
He chuckled softly as he sat up and sat next to her. She snuggled closer to his thigh, warming his skin with her head. He looked down at her back, glancing over the tattoos there. He didn't know tattoos worked on people with healing abilities, but didn't complain as he looked them over. He'd seen them plenty of times, but had never been in the frame of mind to ask about them.
He slowly traced the words written in black ink down her backbone, not understanding a word of it.
"Eww la-toe. Eww gunhay?" he asked skeptically. Rory laughed lowly, to comfortable in her place on the bed to much care about moving to look at his face to see his inevitable expression: Raised eyebrows and smirk curved lips.
"Eu lutei. Eu ganhei. It's Portuguese for: I have fought. I have won, smart ass," she explained, loving the feeling of his rough fingers tracing lazy designs on her body. She was perfectly content laying on their bed after a long day and mind blowing sex. Logan looked at it again, cocking his head to the side.
"Where'd ya get it?"
"In Brazil. Was the last one I got after fightin' in the Iraqi war. Reminds me of all the shit I've survived, " she felt his hand lazily trail its way to her neck, brushing her brown hair out of the way.
"And this one?" his voice sounded as he traced the Celtic heart there, along with the word, "I can't understand a word of this stuff written on you."
"It's the first tattoo I got. I was thirteen in Ireland and a mutant. It's Irish Gaelic for self," she said, feeling him trace the pattern on the heart again.
"Ya got it when you were thirteen?"
"Yeah, wanted to set myself apart from others, more so than I already was."
"Why?" he thought it was ridiculous, and also what kind of person would tattoo a thirteen year old girl in the 19th century? Must have been a cheap son of bitch.
"'Cause I've never been ashamed a my gifts, and I wanted to remind myself that I was my own person," he nodded, and traced his way to her left shoulder. He knew that outline. That grinning cat from that one movie.
"What about this thing?" he traced the black ink. He'd never seen a tattoo like that. It was half black and half of Rory's skin to create the cat. The ink only accented the teeth, eyes, ears and strips, giving it a body and tail. He supposed the cat was a bit like that in the movie
"It's the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. Got it in Louisiana when I was datin' Gambit," Logan growled softly, remembering the smooth talking Cajun he'd met a couple years ago to discuss some facts about his life.
"Ah, calm down, sweetie. I got it 'cause a the movie. It was the first movie I'd ever seen," he scoffed, and she gently nudged his thigh with her head, laughing softly. He now trailed his fingers down to her lower right back. He knew the tree residing there: a cherry blossom tree. He'd seen them all over Japan during his travels.
"What about the cherry tree?" he traced the branches and pink blossoms as she breathed. It took a minute for her to register that she'd been asked yet another question, but she didn't hesitate in responding.
"That was the first day I was ever in Japan. I was blown away by the trees and wanted something to remember that beautiful sight by," he nodded absently, remembering his first time looking at a cherry blossom tree. He'd been stunned by all the pink, not the beauty of the sight, but now that he looked back at it, he thought it was a rather breathtaking scene.
They both rested on the bed for a while after Logan finished his questions about her back, just listening to each other breath and being comforted by the thought of having some one there. Logan had his eyes closed, and was still absently tracing circles on her back; Rory was completely content, her eyes almost shut with exhaustion and peace.
"How many you got?" Logan asked slowly, continuing to run his finger across her back.
"Hmm?" Rory murmured, he mind coming out of a semi-sleep state.
"How many tattoos you got?"
"Eleven," she mumbled, craning her head to look at him. He nodded absently again, and counted the tattoos on her back. Four. There was seven more?
"Where?" he asked, looking down on her. She smirked against the pillow and looked at him.
"Find 'em," she challenged softly, purposefully breathing into his face to screw with his brain. He breathed deeply the scent of her, she actually smelled more like him right now then her, and the salad she'd eaten for dinner and the brownie for desert.
"Fine," he growled, bending his head to inspect her left side. Bingo. He stared at the orange goldfish for a second, taken aback. A goldfish. A fucking goldfish.
"What's that?" he asked, gently poking it.
"A goldfish," she explained, exasperation thick in her voice.
"I know that," he shot back. "But way the hell a goldfish?"
"I got that one in India, I think it was my sixth tattoo. Had a goldfish while stayin' there, and gave it to a little girl who thought it was beautiful," she closed her eyes remembering the light in the little girl's eyes when she given her that fish.
"Oh," he didn't really linger on the story, but moved to inspect more of her. He crawled down to inspect her legs, and found another. It was a lizard. He traced the purple and orange thing around her ankle and down onto her left foot. "And this one?"
"It's a salamander I got in Japan, my seventh ink. It was my second stint in Japan and I had a run in with a giant salamander up in the mountains," he looked at her.
"Were ya scared?" he teased tickling her foot. She dragged it away, glaring at him playfully.
"Ya wanna know the truth?"
"Duh."
"Yes, I was completely terrified of a slimy, five foot thing under my foot," Logan couldn't tell of she was being sarcastic or not, but her voice suggested it, or it was panic from the memory. Logan went with the first option. "I stepped on it, and it moved away really slow. The water up there is freezin' cold and those things move real slow 'cause of it."
He glanced at the salamander again, before kissing his way back up to her neck. He could feel her shiver as he dragged his lips over her neck and back down onto her right shoulder. He smirked against at, now almost completely laying over her. She cuddled closer as he kisses another tattoo.
"And these?" he cracked an eye to look at the masks on her right shoulder.
"Eighth tattoo. Got it in New York doin' vaudeville in the beginnin' of the 20th century," Logan looked back at the masks, inspecting the smiling one and the frowning one.
"You acted?"
"Yeah, I really liked it, still do to tell ya the truth," she admitted, glancing at his face. They lay there for a second, before he flipped her over quickly. She shrieked softly, and curled into a ball, protesting to the lack of his body warmth and the sudden cold wind. He chuckled and unfurled her, tugging her to his side.
He inspected her naked front, and found another prominent black ink. He reached out and traced the symbol above her left breast slowly.
"And this funny thing?" he let his hand trail away and rest on her side, warming the skin there.
"China..... Fourth tattoo. It means love. Got it after the Civil War to remind myself I wasn't a heartless killin' machine; that I was capable of love." Logan looked at her face, and swooped his head down to kiss the tattoo softly.
"I know ya are," he said softly, resting his head against her chest, and letting her heartbeat overtake his sensitive ears. He rubbed his nose softly against her chest as he looked back up. "What's that? Eight down?"
"Yup, three to go, hon," she answered softly, tracing the muscles in his back with her thin fingers.
He backed up and looked down at her body. There was one.
He rested his hand on her left hip, letting his thumb rub over the flower and fish.
"What about this?"
"Also from India, my fifth tattoo. I had a henna of the same design there for awhile and loved it so much I got it permanent in the same colored ink." Logan looked at the brown tattoo for a while, taking in the lotus and koi fish. He rubbed his hand over it again, and racked his eyes over her body again.
His eyes trailed for a while before they found their target: tattoo number ten. Logan crawled backwards and rested his head by her right calf. He looked at the giant koi fish coming down her leg with another funky symbol by it. He traced over the black ink, and gently poked the randomly colored scales, some were blank and others colored.
"And this?" he asked quietly, kissing her leg.
"My second tattoo. I was in Japan when I fell into a fountain of koi in the Emperor's palace. It become my code name on the team of his personal assassins, Koi," she shivered against his lips, but continued speaking. "The writin' is Japanese for strength."
Logan gently kissed the writing, and then trailed a light path of kisses up her leg, across her hip, up her torso and to her lips. He placed a soft, teasing kiss there, and laid down beside her. She cuddled into his chest and he wrapped his arms, and one leg, around her, protecting the single thing he owned in this world more important to him then life. Her head found its place in the crook of his neck, and she inhaled deeply before relaxing totally and completely.
"I didn't find the last one," he said, looking down at her. She smiled, and swept some stray hairs out of his face with her left hand. Logan spotted ink on her wrist and he grabbed it, placing his thumb over the word. Live. She giggled as he kissed it.
"Live," he murmured, setting her hand back down.
"I got it in Louisiana," she whispered, setting her hand on his waist. "It was after the experimentations in the 80s, and I had fallen into a major depression. I got it to remind myself to hold on."
"I'm glad you did."
A few moments passed as they laid there in silence. He traced lazy circles on her skin, and she ran her fingers through the hair on his torso. They finally came to rest above his heart, and she smiled against his skin.
"You are too, ya know," she whispered, kissing his neck, loving how the scruff scratched her nose.
"I'm what?" he asked, nudging her hair aside to kiss her temple. She sighed before answering.
"Capable of love," she explained, tapping her finger to the beat of his heart. He stopped moving, digesting her words. He decided to not say something witty and sarcastic, but instead kiss her temple again.
Another few minutes passed before his resistance wore out.
"So, do I got sex now that I've found them all?" he asked innocently, trailing a hand over her stomach. She laughed slowly, gently punching him in the chest.
"No, I'm tired. Sleep now," she demanded quietly, clutching his warm body closer. He chuckled and held her tighter, shielding her from anything and everything.
"Alrigh', darlin'," he whispered, kissing her temple again, and closing his eyes, feeling accomplished and....... loved.