Fanny has a hidden tattoo and Patton gets all hot and bothered.

Tsk tsk, Patton should know by now that Fanny's a wild card.

Enjoy!


It's teasing him.

He feels ashamed and more than a little creepy, but every time she reaches it shows a little more of itself, peeking out from under her shirt. It's toying with Patton, daring him to run his fingers over its inked contours, over her contours.

Frustrated, he can't find it in himself to look away and he's not sure what's worse: the fact that Fanny Fulbright has a fucking tattoo or that he's blushing like a grade schooler.

To be honest, Patton's not sure how to feel. An array of reactions cross his face before settling somewhere between shock and intense curiosity, because it's Fanny and she has a secret tattoo that he didn't even know existed. His thoughts are running a hundred miles a minute, breaking off into different tangents, trying to figure out how to broach the topic without sounding like he's desperate for an answer (even though he so is.)

"So…what's that?" He asks dumbly, praying he sounded nonchalant. Fanny looks up from the stack of movies she's been rummaging through for the last fifteen minutes and gazes at him with a confused look. Patton watches as her bright green eyes follow his down her body.

"It's a shirt, Patton. Even a boy like you should know that." He can't stop his eyes from rolling to the ceiling and then back to her.

"No, that," he says, gesturing to the piece of skin that's captured his attention.

Fanny follows his lead and gives a small chuckle.

"My tattoo."

"And since when do you have a tattoo?"

"Since I decided to get one," Fanny answers with a snort.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He's not sure if he has a right to feel insulted that she hadn't told him, not even mentioned it in small conversation. Truthfully, she had Rachel and the other girls she could talk to about this stuff, but he thought they were pretty close friends. (Not close enough in his opinion, but she never asked.)

"What is this, twenty questions? Fanny snapped, already done with the conversation and scanning her eyes through the movie titles. She turned to him suddenly with a mischievous smirk.

"Do you want to see it?"

Hell yeah he wanted to see it

"Uh—sure." Patton watched with unwavering attention as she used one hand to lift the hem of her shirt and the other to tug down the top of her shorts, exposing her taut stomach to the harsh store lights.

There it was.

Hot damn.

It was small, resting on the inside of her hip. He felt his breath hitch slightly when he finally saw the graceful black ink that marred her skin in the best way. He could see her stomach move with each breath she took, taking away a little bit of his with every inhale. If he wasn't so transfixed, he'd laugh.

"A shamrock? You're so cliché Fanny." He hoped she hadn't notice his voice falter.

Fanny scoffed, pulling her shirt back down and Patton had to stop himself from letting loose a groan.

Patton had seen his fair share of naked girls. Not to brag, but he was pretty popular. He was, after all, Gallagher High School's star running back and hockey captain. Not to mention an all-around likable guy and according to the girls, pretty hot. Really, seeing such an insignificant amount of Fanny's stomach shouldn't have made him this excited, but it did.

"So do you like it?" It took Patton a second to register Fanny was talking to him. Patton opened his mouth trying to find the right words.

Yes he liked it, pretty sure he loved it. He'd give her anything she asked if he could keep staring at it because, wow, it looked soft and so touchable. Actually, all of her looked soft and touchable. Especially when she was looking at him like that and shit he hasn't answered yet and she's probably wondering why he's just starting at her—when did it get so hot?

"It's okay." They stand next to each other for a few awkward seconds, unsure of what to do next.

"Well…thanks." Fanny answers unsure. Patton nods, but doesn't stop his eyes from lingering where the tattoo had been. As she finally picks a movie she looks to him and catches him staring.

"What?"

"Oh—uh—nothing, just…yeah." Patton's stumbling over his words. He hasn't done that since he was twelve and asked Muffy Jenkins to the school dance.

Fanny's face twists in confusion before shoving past him, making her way to the checkout counter.

"You're so weird Drilovsky."

As Patton watched Fanny's shirt ride up again slightly, the shamrock tempting him, he followed her vaguely wondering what he'd have to do to see it again.