★ ･ﾟﾟ･｡ ⊰ ♚ ⊱ ･ﾟﾟ･｡ THE TATTOO WAS MORE than just a mark on his skin. The fact that Harlow had done it meant something, immortalizing her imprint on him. It wasn’t his first one, but he considered it as the most special. The way she had done it had been smooth. Tripp wasn’t numb. In fact, he felt every second of it; the pressure she had placed on his skin, and the needle’s feather-light preciseness. But the best part of it all? Their closeness, and the warmth her touch brought to his skin. He wasn’t the sensitive type of guy, but around the blonde, he was fuzzy and giddy. The male rarely had the chance to see her and be this intimately close. But damn, he wished he could, longed to stay with her for good. “I’d still probably treasure it,” he said, his voice somehow soft, “since it’s your doing.” And he meant it. He really did.
Destiny was somehow cruel to the both of them. It hardly gave him the chance to be with her longer. Something always came up, and he always had no choice but to leave her. It hurt him, but then, she was probably more hurt than he was. “Well, wouldn’t it be nice if I could be with you everywhere?” It was a jest, though he half-meant it. The male chuckled at her retort. As she took a picture, he stayed still and allowed her to get the right angle. When she showed her creation, he grinned, clearly impressed by her masterpiece. “That’s wonderful,” he told her, smiling. “About the eyes. . .I think I’d prefer if you can make it the same shade as your eyes.” Perhaps, she’d find him crazy, but hey, that was what he really preferred. He wanted to remember her – by her eyes – through this tattoo.
Harlow was always careful when it came to her work, always went out of her way to make sure her clients would have as less painful of an experience as they could and leave the parlor happy and satisfied. Still with Tripp, she was extra careful – not because he couldn’t take the pain, but because she wanted to take her time to ensure the drawing would turn out perfectly on his skin, forever branding him. “Don’t be cheesy. You’d hate it.” Harlow teased, as she gave the tattoo the finishing touches.
The blonde wasn’t sure where they stood at this point – as many times as they’d been thrown together over the years, they’d also left each other every time. It had been that way since Harlow was about 10 years old and he came crashing into her life. He’d been her first love, before Harlow even knew what that word meant. 15 years later, and she was pretty sure he’d be her last too. His half-joke caused Harlow to glance up at him, the familiar pang hitting her heart. They’d made so many plans over the years, and last time they were meant to last. But her father had still been alive, their relationship uncovered, and fear had crept over her. Last time, it had been her choice. But not an easy one. She did it for him, so he could live. And now here he was again. “You think so?” She couldn’t help the smile that crept on her lips at his compliment, happy that he approved of the design with which she’d marked his skin. “I think I can make them a tad bluer.” She offered, turning around to mix the ink. “I’m glad you like it though. I think it’s fitting, for you.” She mused, while her attention was still completely focused on the ink, trying to find the perfect shade.
origamiaround
kaledo-art
stormborns
jacobvanloon
andulkaphoto
