"The stars look different reflected in your eyes..." [OxO] [Closed] [Stalkers Welcome!]

Ollie smeared the ball of his hand against his wet cheek,
"Yeah, something like that," the answer was short and sharp, his eyes now pulled away from Mars and settled on the wall of portraits again.

The old ones sparked his emotions the most. People of different shapes and sizes, all from such a fragile period, connected by their love of an art. He wondered if they were still alive somewhere, reflecting on the memories their ink-spotted skin held.
His skin was the same, yet completely different. Instead of illustrated drawings of self-expression, marks of self-loath littered his body, reminding him of the sins he carried with him.

"…yeah"
The sensation of a thin wipe ran delicately over his scar made the hair on his arm prick up, sensitive from the cool air and the tingle of the disinfectant mixing.

might as well go out with a bang.
That's been his mindset these past few hours, giving in to temptation because, fuck, he'd probably never get to again.

The diagnosis wasn't a surprise. His mother had died of it, and so had his aunt. No, what surprised him was how quickly it happened, how young it was going to take him.

"Yes." was all he said, mind wrapped up in a cocktail of anxiety and heartache.
He tensed as the small needle grazed his skin, marking it with the same dark colour it had Mars. It reminded him of a blood test, a gentle pinch followed by a burn, it made him bite his lip to keep in a cry. He white-knuckled the side of the chair and closed his eyes, his ridged body staying as still as it possibly could.

Oleander opened his mouth to say something but choked.
The air around them was thick with something he couldn't really pinpoint, be it tension or just general awkwardness.
He kept his mouth shut from then on, only letting the occasional whimper. He closed his eyes and tried to relax his muscles, but the buzzing of the gun kept every nerve in his body one high alert.
to late to go back now he supposed,
might as well stick it through

The tinging sensation of irritated skin burnt his chest, but it was the most he's felt alive in months
"Good. It feels good to cross something off the list, thank you."
He took the mirror from Mars' hands and held it out in front of him, studying the intricate patterns and swirls of the plant. It reminded him of something he had seen once growing in his grandmothers garden, and old, droopy plant with vibrant flowers that vined along the wall. The tattoo itself vined similar, following the curve of the scar under his breast.

Oleander frowned slightly. Mars had been so quick to pick up on the fact he was working on a bucket list of all things, was he really being that obvious?
"Ha, yeah, well, I don't think I'll have time for all that- you know-" He tried to joke, but not even he was sure what he meant by that.
"Uh, thank you, for the tattoo, how much?"

A confused half-smile crossed his face,
"What- really? Like its free?"
Ollie slowly stood to his feet, hands clumsily dance around each button of his shirt. They made their way back to the front of the store in a sort of stunned silence,
"Hey- um- take this"
Ollie handed him a smooth, green card, a logo with beautiful flowers and curved writing grace the front and back.
"Its a card- from where I work. Its a little flower shop down the street." He paused as they reached the front counter, laying his sun-graved hands on the cool metal,
"Come by sometime, if you need flowers, I mean. Its on the house, to say thanks, for being such a good listener…and- you know, the tattoo."