Easy Hourglass Tattoo Drawing Novels & Stories

I couldn't resist sketching Kiara a few times; she was too adorable when she curled up next to me and dozed off, or when she would lie on her back while playing with a mouse toy. There were moments when my hand seemed to have a mind of its own, producing a drawing that surprised me once I finished. It would be of him, more specifically his piercing golden-brown eyes. I would have several pages of him in my sketchbook and not miss a single detail when it came to his tattoos.

My eyes became wet with tears of happiness as I too sent him waves of love and appreciation. We ripped ourselves away from each other reluctantly, only coming up for air. I looked on at my mark proudly, licking away the droplets of blood that had leaked out. I placed my mark just above Grayson's collar bone. It was a beautiful design, a crescent moon with intricate markings on the inside. I ran to the bathroom excitedly to see what Grayson had placed on me.

This isn't an outline, this is a full-blown drawing. “This is…” “A hobby I picked up, nothing interesting” He waves it off and my heart shreds up a little. I flip the next page and it's another drawing of me lifting a bloodied figurine high up above my head. My lips are pursed harshly and are painted a sharp shade of ruby red. My eyes are a different shade of brown, they look glazed over like I'm in some sort of bloodlust haze. There are specks of blood splattered all over my face and hands.

Once our faces were finished I had drawn a jagged crack down the middle as if it were a broken picture frame. Putting the empty yogurt container down I opened up a couple of bottles of paint and spent a half hour or so touching up our eyes, lips and also added some depth to the crack. When I was finished I sat back and using red paint wrote the title at the bottom right corner; Broken.

“And neither are you, and it’s because you didn’t want to listen to people who told you what to do.” He groans and pulls out a pen from his pocket. “I don’t have paper.” “That’s fine.” I uncap the pen and hold up my forearm against the wall. “You’re not going to put those things on your skin?” “Relax.” I copy the shape of the first one, but instead of drawing the X shape perfectly, I create it as hash marks with gaps in the middle. I show Cassian what I’ve done. “See?” “Okay,” he says. “Very clever.” But he looks more deeply uncomfortable than I’ve seen him since we got here—since I met him, really.

It is nice to see them beginning to see each other as people again. Hazel and Jade begin a competition to see who can make the most intricate shapes out of some of the drinks scattered across the table. Hazel starts off by making a seahorse that is blowing bubbles as if floats around our heads. Jade competes by making a herd of galloping horses racing around us.

He noticed the tired shadows under my eyes that makeup couldn't fully hide. Without saying a single word, Yoshua walked slowly to the front of the room. He reached up, placed a neatly folded piece of drawing paper on the corner of my wooden desk, turned on his worn sneakers, and slipped out the door to join the lunch line. I paused, watching his small back disappear down the hall. With gentle fingers, I unfolded the textured paper. It was a delicate, careful crayon drawing of a woman with long dark hair, wearing a loose floral dress, cradling a tiny baby wrapped in a pink blanket. Beneath the drawing, written in uneven, crooked second-grade pencil handwriting, were seven simple words:

Makenzie finished order in her mask and was lost in her own thoughts. She was thinking about how much of a gentleman he was, and how happy he was. He must be dating a girl who had a crush on him! In the box. Cassius held a drawing in his hand. On the drawing, it was a very special diamond, two intertwined lines, tightly wrapped around a six clawed diamond, and the entire circle of these two lines was intertwined, creating a very unique design.

I simply began to draw. I drew a simple sun. Round, bright, with gentle rays reaching out. Below it, I drew a small, sturdy house. Not grand, just a square with a triangle roof, a door, two windows. A curl of smoke from a chimney. And in front of the house, two stick figures holding hands. One slightly taller. One small. No faces. Just presence. Together. Safe.

The tattoo artist, with experience and skill, prepared his tools, ready to capture the Leo constellation behind the young woman's ear. The rays of the studio's dim light highlighted Athena's delicate porcelain skin, creating a subtle contrast with the dark ink that would soon adorn her skin. The tattoo artist, with secure and precise hands, began to carefully trace the points that would form the celestial figure. Athena closed her eyes, feeling the slight vibration of the tattoo machine on her skin. A sensation of itching and warmth took hold of her, but it was pleasant; rather, it was as if the stars themselves were dancing on her skin. The tattoo artist, immersed in his art, glided the nee