roserhianon
With a drink in her hand, Rose shook her head, but she was smiling. âI say youâre still not that great of an artist.â She said with a laugh, eyes now looking at the tattoo with a raised eyebrow. âI have a steadier hand then you â shouldâve let me done it.â The blonde mused. Not that ever had the desire to tattoo someone or get one for herself â but, she didnât think sheâd be terrible at it.Â
  Glancing down, Mason shrugged, still a bit too drunk to really care the lines had wobbled. Stick and poke tattoos never came out very well - the tiny ones littering his arms and legs, small and hard to notice, proved that fact well. A smile reached his lips. âAlright - give me my next one, then,â He told her, a request on his tanned face as he slid his hands around her waist to pull her in. âIt can be anything youâd like. Maybe a rose.â











