“My tattoo,” Daphne said, eyes still on the screen.
“You asked me to design one for you,” April said. “So I did.”
“You really did,” Daphne said, glancing up at her. Her eyes felt damp.
April rolled the stool closer, rested her arms on Daphne’s thighs. “I meant for this to make you smile.”
Daphne laughed and wiped her eyes. “It does. It’s perfect. I love it so much.”
She stared at April, their eyes locked, and felt the sudden urge to finish that last sentence differently, insert a different pronoun after a very important word, but that was rash.
That was just emotions and art talking.
Wasn’t it?
“Obviously, you don’t have togetit,” April said, tapping the screen. “But I wanted you to see it here just in case. And I wanted to show you Wonderlust.”
“Oh,” Daphne said, sitting up straighter. “You mean…” She waved her hand at the nearby counter and cabinets, complete with a sink and, she assumed, tattoo supplies.
“Whatever you want,” April said, hands sliding up Daphne’s thighs and squeezing reassuringly. “No pressure. A tattoo is a big deal, and I can make any changes to the drawing you want. Plus, this one will take a few hours, and we don’t have to—”
“Yes,” Daphne said firmly.
April’s brows lifted. “Yes?”
“Yes. I want it now. Just like this,” Daphne said, handing the iPad back to April. She’d honestly never been so sure of anything. Not leaving home, not art school. Not even Elena. But right now, this tattoo—this piece of art that April had created just for her—she knew beyond a doubt she wanted it inked onto her skin.
She kicked her feet up onto the chair, then lay back and closed her eyes, ready.
April laughed. “God, you’re adorable.”
Daphne flipped her eyes open, then reached out and grabbed the scooped neck of April’s tank top, pulling her in for a kiss. She meant it to be quick, but once they’d started, she didn’t want to stop.
Finally, she pulled back a little, April’s mouth still close. “Ink me,” she said.
April laughed again. “Yes, Ms.Love, but there are a few details to work out.”
“Like what?”
“Like where you want it.”
Daphne grinned. “Oh, that.” She looked at the piece again on April’s iPad. It was so lovely—soher, plucking at something deep inside her chest—she didn’t want to hide it away. She wanted it visible.
Wanted to show the world.
Wild and soft.
A spark of light in the middle of chaos.
“Right here,” she said, then tapped her right upper arm.
“You’re sure?” April asked, sliding one hand to where Daphne had indicated. “This soft baby skin?”
Daphne laughed. “Mar the hell out of it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” April said softly, then kissed her one more time before she went to work.
It took some time to get everything set. April had to size the image for Daphne’s arm, then print an outline that would transfer to Daphne’s skin like a stencil. Soon, though, everything was ready, including a tattoo gun with new ink April said she’d just gotten from her distributor for the occasion.
