👩
His mother, Dahlia, had always been a kind woman. Where his father had scolded him for crying even as a young child, his mother would hold him and hush his cries and pet him. Clarus found himself thinking of the woman now, as he watched his daughter sleep. His mother would have loved both of his children. She would have spoiled them, would have told embarrassing stories about him that his father would have beaten him for.
He smiled quietly, making his way back to his room to look through a photo album. He had sat there for the longest time, finding the sketch of his original tattoo design, one his mother had created. Clarus must have been sitting there for a while because he felt his bed dip and glanced over to see his son. “You should be sleeping.” He muttered softly, not moving to hide what he was looking at.
“..Your grandmother is on my mind tonight. She would have loved you. You know that? She would make you anything you want to eat. She would have just…given you and your sister attention. She would have listened to you. Most likely,” he motioned to his tattoo design in his hand,”she would have asked to design your tattoo. She liked to draw. Paint. She was one hell of an artist.”
Clarus sighed and put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “Most of all, she would have been proud of her grandson.”
