I slip my hands inside and pull out multiple stencil designs: flowers, patterns, animals, random objects. I twist my head as I study each one.
“What’s this?”
“Well…” he trails off. “I remember you saying that you wanted to cover your scars with tattoos. So I decided to drawsome possibilities for you. You don’t have to use any of them; I thought it would give you some inspiration.”
My eyes ache from the pressure that builds behind them. “Caleb, they’re stunning,” I whisper. “They must have taken you ages.”
He shrugs as if it’s nothing. “A small project I’ve been working on. Do you like them?”
“Yeah.” I nod frantically. “A lot. They’re incredible.”
I flick through them again.
“These flowers are insane.”
“I did some research and found that sunflowers and orchids represent strength and loyalty. Peonies represent healing. Lotuses represent resilience. All the flowers that remind me of you.”
I sniffle as I look up at him. “I don’t even know what to say.”
Caleb cups the back of my head and massages his fingers into my neck softly. “You don’t have to say anything. They’re just for inspiration.”
My eyes snag on the floral pieces and how sentimental they really are.
“I’d love this to be on my body.” I beam.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Knowing it’s something you drew for me, it’s very special.”
Caleb’s eyes gleam back at me as I glance up.
“Well, if you want to get them done, I know someone we can go to.”
My heart spikes. “I want to,” I say eagerly.
He releases a soft chuckle. “Tattoos are forever, and laser removal is painful. So have a think, and then we can go.”
“Okay,” I say excitedly as I sink my teeth into my lip.
“I can’t believeI’m doing this,” I exhale as I sit in the tattoo artist's chair.
Caleb nods as he holds my hand and smooths his thumb over my knuckles. “You’re doing it,” he says with a smile. “Are you ready?”
I suck in a breath. “As I’ll ever be.”
After choosing the pieces I wanted, I had to go with the flowers—a representation of forever blossoming, growing, living. Caleb drew a bunch more ideas for me in case I was being too nice, but there’s no such thing when the man has incredible talent.
The sensation of being tattooed is weird. It hurts, but it doesn’t. It’s more of a stinging sensation that you get used to after a while.
“You good?” Caleb asks as I purse my lips.
“Yeah,” I mumble as I stare back at the ink on my wrists.
“If you need a break?—”
“I know, Caleb,” I say softly. “I’m okay.”
A few hours later, and I’m done. The artist cleans them before wrapping them, and I listen as he tells me how to give proper aftercare so they heal well.
