SPECTRUM | 15

 "You're really warming up to her," Warren said in a soft voice, scratching Bruno's chin. The dog, nearly the size of an adult human, was on my lap. She was incredibly heavy but she offered my body some warmth so I didn't mind. We were seated on a bench near a lake, watching random people offer pieces of bread to the ducks and geese that swam by. 

He noticed me staring at them and unzipped his backpack, "I might have something in here if you want to feed the ducks. I bought a sandwich on my way here."

"Can I feed Bruno instead?" I requested, noticing how her ears perked up at the mention of a sandwich. Warren let out a warm chuckle and poked Bruno's nose, "She's a hungry one." He pulled the sandwich out of his back and took it out of the plastic container before handing it to me. I split it in half and gave him the other half.

"For the ducks?" he questioned.

I shrugged, "Or for you."

I began tearing the sandwich into little pieces before feeding them to Bruno whose tail was wagging in a pace that screamed 'I haven't eaten in years'. Warren, on the other hand, made his way over to the edge of the bridge and began throwing in little pieces of the sandwich into the lake. I watched as the ducks hurried to each piece at the speed of light with their young ones trailing behind them. 

I noticed how the adult ducks waited for the younger ones to have a piece before grabbing a piece of their own. This reminded me of my father. Father says that I do this often. I remember him saying:

"The little things lead you to drawing bigger pictures; making a story out of things that wouldn't matter to anybody else."

I stood up and walked over to where Warren was standing, Bruno following behind closely. He glanced over at me before pointing over at a kid in the corner who was crying after he had fallen on his behind after attempting to throw a rock at one of the ducks, "Kid's red."

I looked at the kid. I saw it. I saw the red.

"You think the way I do."

"You still can't come up with a colour for me?"

I shook my head, "Sorry."

A calming silence fell upon us. I took this as the opportunity to analyze his features. The eyebrow piercing, the acne scars, the dimples, the jawline, the plump lips. My gaze trailed down to his neck and arms, both nearly completely concealed with ink. I studied his tattoos whilst he fed the ducks.

"Can you tell me about your tattoos?"

"I've waited my entire life for this moment," he began, dusting his hands off before pressing his back up against the railing of the bridge. "Most of them don't really mean anything. I just thought they looked sick. Like this guy here," he pointed at a tattoo of a large snake that went all the way around his right bicep. "Sick, right?"

"Sick," I repeated. "And the roman numerals?"

"That's my old man's birthday," he confessed, tracing his finger over the tattoo. "The one below it is my mom's."

"You don't have your brother's birthday tattooed on you?"

"I have another one for him," he started, pulling his shirt down a little to reveal his collarbone. 

"Headphones? Like the ones your brother wore all the time?"

"Exactly."

"I want a tattoo," I admitted with a sigh. "I don't know what to get a tattoo of though."

"I could send you some pictures for inspiration," he offered with a grin. "I can even accompany you if you'd like. I've heard people usually feel comfortable getting their first tattoo when they have a friend with them."

"Really? Where'd you hear that?"

"Nowhere. I made it up."

I couldn't stop myself from laughing at this. 

"I just wanted to spend some more time with you, I'll admit, call me selfish," he said dramatically with his hands in the air as if to surrender. I found myself smiling, "What about the horse tattoo?"

"Oh funny story actually," he said with a chuckle. "It was raining one night and I went to check on my dogs at the time, found this fat horse in my backyard. Wasn't my horse. Dude was eating our plants."

"You could've sat on him and rode him like in those fantasy films," I commented. "Could've had your movie star moment."

"I could've," he nodded. "But the dude who owns the horse told me he kicks people unprovoked. He stole my plants, I wasn't going to let him steal my life."

I had to place my hand over my mouth to keep myself from laughing. My cheeks were beginning to hurt and as was my stomach. 

"But I decided to get him tattooed because it was a funny memory, and he was kinda cute I guess."

"I think if I ever get a tattoo, I'd get a tattoo of a rainbow."

"Spoken like a true homosexual," he joked. "Why is that?"

I shrugged, "I like rainbows. Or I could even get a Kirby tattoo."

"I'd love to get a Kirby tattoo with you. Or a rainbow too. Rainbows are cool."

"You're cool."

"Wanna get a tattoo of me then?"

I couldn't contain myself anymore. I let go and laughed to my heart's content. 

That was the most fun I'd had in a while. 

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