My eyes looked around the room.

There was a desk, some drawers, and a small connecting bathroom. A black recliner was in the corner, covered by two white pillows and a blanket.

"Make yourself comfortable," he told me while gesturing towards the chair.

I sat down on it, pulling the blanket over me while the rain hit the window in the room. Lighting could be seen in the distance, and the front door dinged. Nico called out to his client, "Be there in a second!"

I watched the storm while I sat in the comfortable chair. Nico looked at me as if he were trying to figure out how I was feeling, so I tried my best to keep my face neutral.

"You need anything?" he asked.

I shook my head.

He walked out, and I snuggled into the blanket. It smelt good, like Nicos' cologne. The rain poured down the window, and I hummed the song, Stan, to myself.

Why was that girl so mean to me?

Winter was sweet. Beautiful, too. I wish that I had beauty like that.

I didn't have a body like the girls that I see online. I didn't have huge boobs, I didn't have a huge ass, and my waist wasn't as tiny as I constantly feel like it should be. I don't weigh 100 pounds. I have a normal-looking body, that is nothing special.

But my normal body is enough for me.

Maybe that's why Melina didn't like me. I wasn't as pretty as her and Winter. But personality can make you just as ugly as appearance can, so I found Melina ugly.

Although my bottom lip still trembled. I bit it, trying to keep it still.

Maybe I'm just not meant to have friends.

"I got you some food," Nicos' voice spoke suddenly, making me jump and pull the blanket over me further.

He held the styrofoam container out for me to take, "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't," I lied. "Your face scared me."

"Bitch."

"Asshole."

I opened the container, revealing fries and chicken strips. I lifted a fry, putting it into my mouth. Maybe food will cheer me up.

"What were you doing out at night alone?" he asked me while I ate.

I didn't want to tell him about Melina. He'd probably agree with her that it was embarrassing for me to go alone.

"I was getting ice cream," I told him, leaving out that part.

"Shouldn't do that shit alone."

"Rio was sleeping."

"Rio?"

After eating one of the chicken strips, I told him, "My younger brother. He was sleeping, and my older brother Romeo was working late."

"Couldn't you have asked one of your friends?" he asked, making me blink harshly to avoid crying. A dull ache came from my head, making me sigh slightly. I always get headaches before I cry.

I just shook my head no, continuing to eat my food.

Once I was done, he grabbed the container and threw it out. I winced as I moved, my headache hurting for a second as I moved back in the chair.

His eyes looked me up and down while he asked, "What is it?"

"My head hurts a little," I confessed, rubbing my fingertips against my temples. "Do you have any Advil?"

"Not here, no," he replied while taking steps over to me. "Lay down."

My eyebrows lowered, but I did as I was told. I laid on my side, facing the wall, as I felt him sit down beside me. His hands went to my head, his fingertips pressing soft circles against my head.

I let my eyes shut as he kept his fingers pressed against my temples for a while. His strong hands eventually move to my hair, and the feeling of it paired with the rain made me feel as I could fall asleep at any moment.

"I hope you know that this doesn't mean that I like you now," he spoke while his fingertips massaged my scalp.

With closed eyes, I whispered, "Trust me. I know."

The room fell silent for a moment as his hands ran through my hair. He let out a slight sigh before whispering back, "Fuck. I don't mean that."

His words caused my stomach to warm, my lips turned up in a slight smile.

"You turning soft on me now, Nico?" I teased, and his hand squeezed the back of my neck gently in response.

"Definitely not."

He stood up and pulled the blanket over top of me. He told me, "You can sleep until I'm done. I'll come wake you up when I'm ready to go."

I listened to his footsteps walk away, followed by the sound of him and his client talking. I kept my eyes shut, waiting for sleep to overtake me.

But of course, my thoughts couldn't let that happen.

Why do I find myself wanting to spend time with Nico now?

I've hated him since I was nine. He's sarcastic, rude, and as cold as the arctic ice. Yet while I sat in his car as he drove us to his work, I found myself getting lost in the moment. And that's when I realized,

I want to be friends with Nico.

I ripped the blanket off of me, standing up to my feet.

Thunder cracked as I stepped out of the room, entering the dim tattoo room. A middle-aged man was sitting up, getting a tattoo on his forearm. He smiled at me, "Hey, who is this?"

"Elle," I introduced as the sound of the tattoo pen stopped.

Nico looked at me with lowered eyebrows, and I pulled up a stool to sit beside him. I ran my fingers through my hair, brushing it slightly since the pillow had messed it up. Nico asked me, "What are you doing out here?"

His tone of voice wasn't angry like he didn't want me here. It was just curious.

I told him, "Just wanted to watch you."

His eyes met mine for a split second before he nodded his head. I watched the pen go along the mans' skin, wondering how much that hurts.

"Let me have a try, Nico," I nudged my arm against his slightly, and he rolled his eyes.

The man spoke up, "Yea, Nico. Let her have a go at it."

"It's Cross, not Nico," he corrected him with some venom lacing his tone. "And trust me, you wouldn't want Elle touching your tattoo with a ten-foot pole."

"Let me give one to myself then," I shrugged, and he shook his head no.

I let out a soft sigh, watching him give the tattoo. I stared at Nico, watching his side profile. He leaned down to have a better view of the tattoo, making some of his black hair hang down onto his forehead. His Adam's apple was prominent, and his muscles were flexed as he drew.

I forced my eyes away, knowing that I had been staring for too long.

My mouth opened as I yawned, my eyelids heavy as I blinked. The sound of the tattoo machine stopped, and Nico whispered in my ear, "You can lean against my arm."

My tired eyes looked up to meet his, and his had a warmth behind them. He moved his arm in an encouraging motion, and I pressed my cheek against his arm. He let me use his left arm as a pillow, drawing the tattoo with his right.

The tattoo he was giving was beautiful. I'd definitely trust him to give Rio his tattoo once I know what it's going to be.

My eyes slowly fell asleep to the sound of the buzzing. The client remained quiet, or if he did talk, it was too quiet to wake me up.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed until I felt something cover my body. My eyes opened, and I looked down, seeing that I was now in the recliner again. Nico stood on the other side of the room, setting some things down on the desk.

"What time is it?" I asked, and he turned to look at me over his shoulder.

"It's 1 am," he told me, making my eyes widen. "Do you want me to drive you home?"

If Romeo checked my room when he got home from work, I was fucked.

I rubbed my eyes for a second, and by the time I was done, Nico was kneeling in front of me. I felt my heart skip a beat in my chest as his eyes stared into mine. He asked gently, "Is everything okay, Elle?"

I bit my bottom lip. How do I tell somebody that doesn't want to be my friend, that I want friends?

"I feel like I'm not living," I confessed.

The thunder had stopped and the rain had lightened up. It still hit the window, but more gentle than earlier. He asked, "What do you mean?"

"Nobody likes me, Nico," I blinked back the tears that formed in my eyes. "I've never done anything memorable. I don't go out shopping with my friends or have sleepovers while we try to hold in our laughter at night so we don't wake up my family. I want to live before it's too late."

I hadn't even realized I was crying until Nico stood up, pulling me up into his chest. I was in need of a hug, wrapping my arms around his torso while his hands ran up and down my back. I sniffled against his shirt and asked, "Why don't you like me?"

He pulled away from the hug, tilting my head up while holding my chin. He spoke softly, "I'm scared to be around you, Elle. I'm scared to care about you. As sarcastic as you are, you still have managed to make me fucking smile. And I don't smile."

"Why are you scared?"

"The last time that I cared about somebody...." his voice trailed off.

The girl he bought flowers for?

He didn't finish his sentence, leaving a void for me to try and fill in. He shook his head, "Doesn't matter. You're a good girl, Elle. Sometimes you even manage to say something funny, too."

A small laugh escaped my mouth.

"Makes one of us," I teased, and his green eyes rolled.

He took a step back, grabbing his car keys off of the desk.

I sniffled as he walked back over to me, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Nico is attractive. He has eyes the color of malachite, muscles that looked like they were fighting to get out of his shirt, and the softest looking black hair I've ever seen.

And I just have brown hair and brown eyes. Nothing special, but it's probably even worse when I cry.

I raised my hands to block my face as I sniffled again, "Don't look at me, I probably look so bad."

His warm hands grabbed onto mine, removing them from my face. He put his hands on the sides of my face, brushing my tears away that rolled down my cheeks, "You don't."

His hands on my face felt as if butterflies had been released in my stomach.

When Nico wants to be mean, he can be mean. But when he wants to be nice,

God can he be nice.

"Why don't you and I do something this weekend," he said, making my eyebrows raise.

"Really?"

"Yea. We'll go downtown on Saturday," he said, and I tried my best to keep myself from smiling widely.

"Like....friends?" I asked, almost in disbelief that he was asking me to go somewhere.

He looked to the side for a moment, and I wasn't sure why, but maybe it was to look at the raindrops that ran down the window. He met my eyes again, "Sure."

Hold your excitement in until you're home.

"Now let me get you home," he put his hand on my back, guiding me out of the tattoo parlor and flipping the lights off on his way.

I smiled to myself as we walked out.

The radio played lowly as we drove. The rain had stopped, and some fog remained in the distance. Even though I love the smell of rain, I kept my window up.

He pulled into my driveway, but before he did, I told him to do it quietly. To which he replied, "Don't tell me what to do or I'll blow the horn for as long as I can."

So I shut my mouth and let him pull in how he wanted to, which was actually almost silent.

My hand hovered over the handle before getting out. My question sat in my throat, and I could feel Nios' green eyes on me. He asked, "What is it?"

"Why'd you move, Nico?"

Moving isn't a big deal. People move all the time, and I'm sure there are plenty of reasons why a family would move after one day. But it just feels like there's something he's not telling me, and I want to know what lays behind that steel wall he has up.

He just stared at me. His jaw shifted, not out of anger, but as if he were trying to think of what to say.

"If we're going to be friends, Elle, we need to have a few agreements," he said, my heart warming at the word friend. "I don't want you to ask questions about my life, okay?"

My eyebrows lowered. He continued, "You can ask me boring shit, like my favorite color. But don't ask about my life."

I guess the wall isn't made of steel; its made of titanium.

I nodded, "Okay."

I got out of the car, shutting it quietly behind me. Both of my parents were home now, along with Romeo, and I just had to hope that nobody was up waiting for me to come home.

I opened the front door as quietly as I could, feeling beyond relieved that none of the lights were on. Romeo would have all of the lights on and be standing at the front door if he knew I wasn't home this late without an explanation.

I tiptoed through the kitchen, knowing that my mom is a light sleeper and not wanting to wake her.

"Out sneaking around?" Rios' voice spoke from behind me, making me nearly jump out of my skin.

My hand hovered over my rapidly beating heart, "Jesus Christ, Rio. What are you even doing up?"

He shrugged, "Fell asleep early and just woke up. Came downstairs to get a snack. Isn't that the same guy that walked you home? Is he your dirty little secret?"

"Shut up," I whispered, making him smirk. "He's just my....friend, okay?"

"And where'd you meet this friend, exactly?" he inquired, making me rub my temples, his questions making my headache come back.

I let out a soft sigh, "Look. He's a tattoo artist, and he's gonna be the one to give you a tattoo. Doesn't matter how I met him."

"Sick," he smiled as if I just said the coolest thing ever. "His tattoos are pretty sick."

"Whose tattoos?" my moms tired and slightly angry voice spoke from behind me.

Jesus Christ. If my family scares me one more time, I'm moving out.

"Harry Styles' obviously," Rio covered up. "Remember when Elle cried when you said no to getting her concert tickets?"

"I was ten!" I crossed my arms.

My mom shook her head, "Go upstairs and go to bed you two. It's 2 am."

Rio and I nodded and spoke at the same time, "Yes, mom."

We looked at each other, holding in our laughter so that she didn't kill us.

We all walked up the stairs, going to our rooms. I shut the door behind me before pulling off my clothes and changing into sweats and a t-shirt.

I pulled my covers over me as I shut my eyes.

I'm going to break that wall down.