Blood Thinner Tattoo Novels & Stories

Sharper this time. I swallowed. My hands were shaking. I hugged my sketchbook tighter. He exhaled through his nose. Looked at the blood on his knuckles like it had personally offended him. Then he reached into his jacket, pulled out a black bandana, and started wrapping his hand. I watched, stupidly mesmerized. “Why were you there?” I asked quietly. His eyes flicked to mine. “I was passing through.” “Twice in two days you’ve ‘passed through’ exactly where I am.”

I was shocked how much the small tattoo affected me, the beautiful white rose a reminder of all things pure and decent contrasted by the red banner crossing the stem bearing the words 'bad girl. "Gage. What's wrong?" Scarlet moved into a sitting position. She smiled at the technician as she glanced over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse. "Thank you." "The redness will go away in a day or two," the technician said as he pointed toward a mirror in the corner. "Hand mirror over there if you'd like to see. Looks nice on you." I couldn't take my eyes off the fresh ink, the mark located just below her hip. "We need to get back. Nothing's wrong."

If this man dies, so do I. The wound pulses beneath my hands, pumping out heat and life I can't seem to stop. My breath hitches, and I rip the shirt wider. I am desperate to get a better look, to find the bleeding, to do something but that's when I see it. The faint trace of a tattoo on his forearm, peeking through smeared blood. It is not a lot but just enough to let the design show.

Soonie noticed too, her breath hitching as he reached forward again, this time slower, and brushed his thumb along the ink. It flaked. A sticker. A damn sticker. The realization hit like cold water. His anger faltered, his hand lowering. “What the hell…” he muttered. Soonie jerked her wrist away, her voice shaking. “It’s not real. I got it for a charity event the company did days ago. It's a temporary ink tattoo for the children’s hospital. It washes off. The real one’s on my shoulder, not my wrist.” Damon stared at her, guilt and disbelief crashing into each other.

I was so speechless, I just jumped on him and he winced, the tattoo was still hurting a bit. My fingers traced another ink one on his shoulder, he got this one after his dad died, in memory of him. "Do you always do this when I'm asleep" Bryne's husky voice jolts me back and I quickly remove my hand from his chest. He frowns and sits up, resting his back on the headboard. He yawns and stretches. I gulp, watching his thick muscle extends and flexes. "Come here" I nod and crawl to his arms obediently. He draws circles on my back and hums an inaudible tune.

She shook her bare, left hand in front of his face. He sighed. “Still my girlfriend,” he said. “She wants my name tattooed…” He turned her around and lifted her shirt, running a finger along her lower back. “… right there.” He then rubbed his lower belly. “And I want hers right here. Can you squeeze us in right now?” “Yeah, I’m almost done here.” Butch dabbed the guy’s chest with a towel, removing dots of something red from his skin. Rebekah winced when she realized the guy under the needle was bleeding.

Grandma said and the doctor agreed. He gave sedative to Alex that helped him relax and sleep and then he pulled open his shirt. "Turn him around." Grandma said and doctor did. Both of them gasped at the view. Alex's back was red and the tattoo of "water droplet engulfed with fire" was glowing. It was as if newly made. The area around the tattoo was also making the rash over his skin. His back was blazing red and sensitive. She touched it softly and sensed that if she will press it hard his skin might melt.

My eyes drifted down to his torso, and my breath caught. God must have enlisted his finest artist to carve Killian Knight. The tattoo, a haunting web of thorned vines, began at his right hip and sprawled across his torso. Its black branches reached his heart, with another branch peeking over his left shoulder and spreading down his arm to his elbow. The intricate design, hidden beneath his clothes, was now fully exposed.

Ever had told me she owned a tattoo parlor, but for some reason, I never anticipated she would have tattoos, primarily because pure silver extract had to be added to the ink. Otherwise, our bodies would reject the ink and heal around it. But using silver made the normal pain of getting a tattoo about a hundred times worse.

IAN ONE WEEK LATER… “Are you sure about this, sir? If you get ink on your skin, you'll never be able to donate blood.” Anderson says as the tattoo artist Luca hooked me up with moves closer. “I've never been more sure of anything in my life.” “Why won't he be able to? After six months or a year, he can do it.” Joe says, but Anderson shakes his head. “Not for him it won't be possible. His doctor advised against it. The black ink, especially, can trigger an allergic reaction he had years ago. If it happens again, which it will, he'll be permanently barred from donating blood.”