At first, I just thought the silence that stood between Dorian and me was because he needed a minute before talking about this memory that made him spiral. Maybe even answer a few questions I might have about him that had been bugging me since this whole thing.

   But then the minute dragged into two, then three, then I was pretty sure a full sunrise would happen before Dorian uttered a word.

   All the words in my head just felt wrong to voice out right now. Especially since I had no idea about the exact thing bugging him. But it felt way worse to see him looking so sad.

"Dorian," I swallowed right after saying his name, bracing myself for any hostile interruptions before continuing. "I'd be lying if I said I know what to tell you so I'm not going to. The thing is though... whether it's finding me in Zavlon's forest for the first time and bringing me to the bunker, helping me in a panic attack or being exactly who I needed when I lost Talise, you've always been there to comfort me and I want to do the same for you. Not because I think I have to at this point, but because just like you believed I deserved it anytime you were there for me, so do I for you. Especially right now. And also because I, uh... I care about you. So please Dorian. Let me make you feel better."

   It took the heavy breaths that followed my words to realise how much I'd spoken.

   But the look Dorian finally directed my way and what he said next made me realize it was all worth it.

"I care about you too."

   Giving a mere nod which was in serious contrast with the excitement that threatened to burst out of me any moment, I didn't take my eyes of Dorian as he ran a hand through his hair and inhaled a loud breath.

   While toying with his fingers, he spoke up with a slight crack in his voice, "The memory I had is just one of many. I dream about these memories a lot and I'd– I'd be lying if I said any of them are good."

   Despite the multiple attempts of my mind to connect dots and ask questions, I did the best I could to focus on being a good listener.

"My parents aren't my, uh, my birth parents." My eyes darted to the vein-covered, balled up fists at his sides when he paused, "my real ones aren't around... alive anymore. I was five when it happened."

   My hands went over Dorian's slumped shoulders in an instant, squeezing tight. I didn't want to speak up until I was sure that he wasn't going to say anything else. Fortunately, I'd made the right choice.

"The period between after my parents' death and before my adoption was not really a good time. The– the institution I was in didn't have the interests of children at heart. Unless they suited their interests that is. They were more focused on what they could take from us. And they didn't care how they got it. Attempting to resist as a defenceless child against the lot of them just made it worse. The institution always made you pay for it. In more ways than one..."

   As he trailed off, my eyes fell to see his right hand clutching the fabric of his shirt round his chest. The frown of confusion that overtook my face only lasted for a second upon realising the reason behind his gesture.

   I allowed one of my hands to cover his, making sure to lock our eyes before asking with the softest tone I could manage, "They're the ones that gave you your chest tattoo, aren't they?"

   Immediately, Dorian shrunk away from my hold and shot to his feet. The green colour of his eyes appeared to darken as they stared down at me wider than I'd ever seen.

"H-How do you," Dorian stopped to catch the breath I'd made him lose in a split second. "How do you know about that?"

"I-I..."

   I... wasn't sure how to respond. And the unreadable expression he had on at the moment didn't help in the least. But then again, if he was mad, it would've shown the minute he discovered I knew. Telling him how I found out shouldn't really matter. Especially since his reaction had confirmed that the tattoo I saw that night we were alone in the forest wasn't a figment of my imagination. I was honestly beginning to believe it was at some point.

"Remember the first time I came to the forest in Zavlon and you saved me from those Yunitides?" I didn't meet Dorian's eyes as I got on my feet to ask him. "I saw the tattoo while you were accompanying me from the bunker to the bus stop that evening. But if it makes you feel any better, I couldn't–and still can't–even make out what it exactly looks like. It's not like I was staring at your chest the whole time or something—"

"Beth, Beth!" Dorian's hands made their way to my shoulders. "It's okay."

"Really?" I looked up at him to make sure.

   His brows weren't pinched and no frown lines had wrinkled his smooth face.

"Really." He nodded, sighing as his hands released my shoulders. "It's just... no one knows. Except Rav."

"Oh."

   I didn't have to be a mind reader to know that he was implying that I didn't tell anyone else.

"And to answer your previous question, yes." Seeing the confused frown etched in my features, Dorian explained further, "The people at the institution were the ones who gave me the tattoo. According to them, it was a reflection of me. To this day though, I still don't know what that means."

   A reflection of– what does that even mean? You would think those idiots would come up with a less crappier justification for tattooing a five year old boy.

"Would you..." I noticed how his fingers fidgeted with the ends of the shirt he had on right before asking, "Would you like to see it?"

   That question went straight to my chest, the beats in my heart losing its regular pumps in an instant. I could only hope the nod I responded with wasn't too quick.

   My breath hitched as he began to tug the shirt over his head.

   Yes, yes, I know his intention was just to show me the tattoo— and believe me, it was something I was looking forward to seeing— but...

   Dorian Mathers was about to go shirtless in front of me!

   I mean, me!

   It was just weeks ago that I was convinced he hated my guts like everyone else. If his mini fan club from school were here right now, they would probably be plotting ways to get me expelled from Zavlon.

   While Dorian tossed the shirt aside, my eyes darted toward his chest, way faster than I would have preferred.

   All the jitters that wouldn't stop pulsing through me a few seconds ago evaporated in an instant as I caught sight of the ink design a few inches to the left from the centre of his taut, chiselled chest.

   And just like that, the tattoo was the only thing every part of me was choosing to focus on. The blossomed petal size it had and black ink used were the only descriptions I could give to the tattoo with utmost confidence.

   For the most part, however, I couldn't say for sure what I was looking at.

   The tattoo was unlike anything I'd ever seen. Its curved ends, although not connected, had been able to establish the roundness of a puffy cloud with thick ink that could only be achieved by excruciating repetition.

   Within the almost circle that the ends formed were what seemed like scribbles at first glance. As I peered to get a better look, though, I could swear my eyes were capturing hastily written letters of the alphabet and lines that were either too short or never ending within the so-called circular edges.

"Wait," I couldn't stop myself from reaching over to brush the design as I noticed something else, "Are those more lines?"

   Dorian did not have to respond. We both knew the answer.

   I can't believe I missed it before. All around the cloud shaped tattoo, were subtle, tiny flecks of lines that could be compared to light rays on paper.

"I'm sorry," Withdrawing my hand that seemed latched onto his chest at this point, I chuckled, trying to shield my burning face by turning away. "I didn't realise I was, um..."

"It's alright," Dorian responded with an ever calm tone.

"It's just," I turned to face him again saying, "Your tattoo looks so well thought through. I can't help wondering how long you had to sit and suffer through the entire process."

"At some point," He sighed, brushing a hand over his face. "Time wasn't really on my mind anymore. I remember just wanting it all to stop."

   I stared at the tattoo again, trying to ignore the discomfort that gnawed at me. Eventually, I looked away, but my eyes did not travel very far. Also on Dorian's chest and shoulders were blade inflicted cuts that had turned into faint scars with time. Scars which were evidence of more painful experiences not every would have survived through.

"I'm sorry you went through this, Dorian," I remarked, desperate to stifle the tears brimming at the corners of my eyes.

"Yeah," The lush green-eyed stare he gave me was watery as well. "Me too."

   I began to join Dorian as he reverted to his seating stance on the floor. What I didn't expect was him to draw me into his arms right before I sat down and in between his legs. That didn't stop me, though, from leaning my back against his chest, resting my head in the crook of his neck and getting comfortable like we'd done this a thousand times.

   All without his shirt on.

   Our unison breathing were the only sounds echoing in the basement until Dorian said, "So, any more questions? Anything you need to get off your chest?"

   I didn't say a word, knowing that if I opened my mouth now, every single question, from how and why he wasn't affected by the Virtuo glasses at the dance, to why he lied about it, to why he lied about the camera explosion to more about the time he spent in the institution before getting adopted was going to come spewing out.

   All that he revealed had to have taken some form of toll on him. I just couldn't bear the image of seeing him so sad again. So pushing down all my curiosity that was bursting at the seams, I shook my head from side to side.

"No, nothing, Dorian."

   Not today anyway.

   The silence between us returned.

   But not for long.

"Beth?"

"Hmm?"

   Glancing up at him, I noticed that although his eyes were dry, the shade of pink that had overtaken his features earlier still remained. In fact, it appeared deeper than I remembered.

   I had to ignore the warm flutter that made its way to my belly when he intertwined our fingers if I wanted to hear what he had to say.

"Would you..." Still keeping his hand locked with mine, Dorian's gaze shifted to the floor as he asked, "Would you... like to go out with me?"

   On instinct, my body retreated from his with an almost violent force. I shot to my feet, directing my eyes to every part of the basement that didn't give me a clear or peripheral vision of Dorian. Starting to get convinced that my heart had fallen to my guts, still pounding away, I placed my palm upon my stomach to make sure.

   But that was when I realised that the short breaths barely escaping my tight chest was another thing I had to worry about.

   And all this was while standing on legs I was certain turned to mushy noodles long ago.

"Beth?" I heard Dorian's footsteps come my way as he called.

"O-out?" I stuttered, after swirling to face him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

   I observed that Dorian had put his shirt back on. He buried his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants while staring at the floor, "You don't have to if you don't want—"

"No!" I choked on air upon realising how my response sounded. "I mean no, I want to! So, yes! Yes, I would love to go out with you."

   Words couldn't describe how ecstatic I felt when the smile from me matched his.

"You know," Dorian's eyes travelled around the basement a few times while he remarked before landing on me again. "We still have some hours of sleep we could make use of before morning comes."

   My body first responded with a yawn before I replied, "Yeah, you're right. Let's get out of here."

   My steps toward the basement's exit were halted by Dorian taking my hand.

"I just realized something," he said after I questioned his action. "Last night was supposed to be your night with me."

"Yeah."

   My face crumpled into a wince when I remembered that I'd been sleeping in Rav's room for quite a while since he got mad at me for what I said. I can't believe I'd already forgotten. An apology from me was long overdue.

   Dorian diverted my thoughts by wrapping an arm over my shoulders. Then, almost as if he could read my thoughts, whispered, "We can deal with that some other time. Right now, let's just go to bed."

   A large grin made its way to my lips at those last words.

   But that didn't stop me from referring to the previous joke I made, "I knew this was a booty call."

   The volume of his laughter was most likely getting us cussed out by some sleepy grump in one of the motel rooms upstairs right now.

   But I couldn't be happier.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please don't forget to vote and comment!