✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ ｢ ♚ ｣ TRIPP DETECTED THE INNUENDO in her voice, and boy, it was doing things to him. He was reminded of their blissful days together, the nights they’d spent, the mornings they’d waken up next to each other. He knew that he couldn’t just look at her as a mere tattoo artist. Harlow’s role in his life was too enormous, and during her absence, it had left an enormous gaping hole. Even up to now, things were still the same, and not a single thing had changed, except they were both older, and more mature. Aside from that, she was still as beautiful as ever, ever so gorgeous and stellar.
His visit here had been done out of impulse. He tried to see how he’d feel around her, whether he’d still be affected or not, but he finally knew now. She still had the same effect on him. She still moved him the same way. She still made his heart beat erratically. If someone knew that a man of his caliber was capable of having such sentiments, all because of a woman, it’d be a joke. Distracted by his thoughts, he was numbed, almost forgetting about that new ink etched on his skin. Once she declared that it was all done, dread settled over him. He didn’t want to leave yet. He didn’t want to be away from her. A strange longing swelled in his chest, and tugged at his heartstrings. He wasn’t used to feeling this way. Having the ruthless Tripp Moretti vulnerable would be a reward to the enemies. If they had known, they would start a feast. The pain dawned on him, the sting of the needle —- or did it come from the sting of the thought that he’d leave her? When she spoke, told him about her deceased father, he took it as sign that he wanted her to stay. He shifted and turned to look at her. ❝D–do you want me to stay?❞ he asked, uncharacteristically displaying uncertainty, the confident Tripp Moretti finally wavering ( and it was all thanks to this woman ). He stood up, extended his hand, and cupped her face, looking her in the eye intently.
Reaching over to the table, Harlow placed down her instruments and took off her gloves, her face turned away just briefly, keeping her eyes from falling on him. She didn’t know whether or not those news would have any impact on him – if it would change anything. Probably not, she decided. But still, he was owed some explanation, he was owed that, he deserved to know that no danger would befall on him, at least not when it came to her and her family. The threat that loomed over them for years, that had kept them apart for so long, was no longer a threat. Her father was dead, as was the promise that anyone who would interfere with the family business and the family itself would suffer a horrible fate.
The blonde had no illusions – this dance between the two had started over 10 years ago, and during that time, they’d left each other countless times, and they’d also come back to each other’s arms countless more. Last time had been a goodbye, so much so that Harlow left without a trace and for once, Tripp hadn’t tracked her down. When she left him that day, it was with a promise that it had been the last time that they’d ever say goodbye. But here he was now, in her chair, having let her work on his skin like she would in a canvas. The least he deserved was the truth – and it wasn’t even a desperate attempt to get him to stay this time, she realized. Even if she wanted to keep him around for just a little longer. Then Tripp was reaching over, and the warmth of his skin was hitting hers, comforting her. Her heart swelled, growing three times bigger, but she told it to stay still. How could he even ask her that, wasn’t it clear by now? “Yes.” She retorted, voice soft, steely blue eyes bored into his. “I want you to stay.”
pixelskylines
andulkaphoto
gummygunk
gracieabrams
theartofmadeline
kianamaiart
amandla
gamechangershow
ellievsbear
izzy806