- Do tell
Lila’s P.O.V.
As I stepped into the house, the familiar warmth of the space greeted me, but it did little to soothe the turmoil in my mind. I was still replaying my conversation with Skye, trying to make sense of his reluctance to share his art, and the wall he’d put up between us. As much as I tried to push the thoughts away, they kept swirling back, leaving me feeling unsettled.
I was surprised to find Blade lounging on the couch, gaming on the TV. He looked up when I entered, his usual carefree grin spreading across his face.
“Well, if it isn’t the runaway bride herself,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“How’s life treating you, Lila?”
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. Blade somehow was impossible to be mad at, even when he was being a flirt.
“Not bad, Blade. Just trying to figure a few things out. So, stop gaming, we need to chat.”
Blade sat up a bit straighter, clearly interested.
“Oh? Do tell.”
I hesitated for a moment before deciding to just dive right in. Blade was Skye’s brother, after all. If anyone could help me understand what was going on with him, it might be Blade.
“It’s about Skye,” I said, watching Blade’s reaction carefully.
“Ah, my baby bro,” Blade said, his tone taking on a playful lilt.
“What’s he done now? Brooding too much? Being all mysterious and stuff?”
I couldn’t help but laugh a little at that.
“Something like that. I just don’t get why he’s so closed off. Especially about his art. He’s so talented, but it’s like he’s hiding it from the world.”
Blade leaned back, his expression shifting to something more serious.
“Skye’s always been like that, you know. Ever since we were kids, he kept his feelings bottled up. But after our parents died, it just got worse. He mourned through his art, but that also made it extremely personal to him. It’s like… I don’t know… like he poured all his pain into those pages, and now he doesn’t want anyone else to see that part of him.”
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My heart ached at the thought of Skye, young and grieving, retreating into his art as a way to cope. It made sense now in a way. It made sense why he would be so protective of his work. But it also made me want to reach out to him even more, to show him that he didn’t have to carry that burden alone.
“Have you ever seen his sketches?” I asked, genuinely curious. Blade smirked, lifting the sleeve of his shirt to reveal a series of intricate tattoos running down his arm.
“Yep, I’ve seen a few. In fact, these are all Skye’s designs.”
My eyes widened in surprise as I took in the tattoos. They were a striking display of intricate black and white designs that covered most of his muscular arm. The centerpiece of his ink was a large, powerful wolf, its eyes piercing and intense, captured in a moment of movement as if it were about to leap off his skin. The wolf’s fur was detailed with delicate shading, each strand meticulously drawn to give it a lifelike texture. Above the wolf, near his shoulder, was a bold number “7,” inked in a stylized script. The number was surrounded by subtle, swirling patterns that gave it a sense of depth and significance.
“This tattoo represented my connection to my family, a tribute to my six siblings and me, and the unbreakable bond we share. The number is a constant reminder of my roots, my love for my family, and the responsibility I felt as one of the male siblings.” Blade spoke as he looked
down at his own arm and the number seven.
Interwoven with the wolf and the number were flames, crackling and fierce, winding their way around his arm in a continuous flow. The flames were drawn with sharp, jagged edges, each lick of fire capturing the raw energy and danger associated with his job as a firefighter, no doubt. The flames seemed to pulse with life. They wrapped around his forearm, blending seamlessly with the wolf’s fur, creating a sense of movement and unity within the design. The lines were so precise, the details so vivid. It was like each one told a story, a glimpse into not only Blade’s life, but also into Skye’s soul.
“These are amazing, Blade. I had no idea.”
“Neither did Skye, at first,” Blade said with a chuckle.
“I sort of…borrowed them.”
My eyebrows shot up.
“You what?”
“Yep, borrowed ’em right out of his sketchbook,” Blade admitted, clearly amused by my reaction.
“Got them inked without telling him. Man, he was furious when he found out. But I couldn’t
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help it. His art is too good to stay hidden.”
I shook my head, a mix of disbelief and admiration in my expression.
“That’s…wow. You’re lucky he didn’t kick your ass for that.”
“Oh, he tried,” Blade said with a grin.
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“But then he saw how good they looked on me, and he couldn’t stay mad. Well, not for long,
anyway.”
I laughed, the tension in my chest easing a bit. Blade had a way of making everything seem lighter and less complicated. But as the laughter faded, I found myself thinking about Skye again, about how much he kept hidden, even from his own family.
“He’s really talented, Blade,” I said softly.
“I just wish he could see that. I wish he didn’t feel like he had to hide it.”
Blade’s grin softened into a more thoughtful expression. He looked at me for a long moment, as if something had just clicked in his mind.
“You really care about him, don’t you?”
I blinked, caught off guard by the question.
“I…I don’t know. I mean, I care about him as a friend. He’s been really kind to me.”
Blade gave me a knowing look, the kind that made me feel like he could see right through me.
“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly not buying my casual response. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he stood up from the couch, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a fight.
“Where are you going?” I asked, confused by his sudden change in demeanor.
Blade flashed me a wicked grin.
“To kick my brother’s ass.”
My eyes widened,
“What? Why?”
“Because someone needs to knock some sense into him,” Blade said, already halfway to the
door.
“Don’t worry, Lila. You’ve got a lot of people in your corner here. And trust me, Skye’s gonna come around. He’s just a little slow on the uptake.”
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With that, Blade disappeared out the door, leaving me sitting there on the sofa, a mix of amusement and hope swirling in my chest. I didn’t know what exactly Blade had figured out just now, but I couldn’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, things were about to change
around here.
