Novel & Cerita Jenna Ortega Tattoo

She’s in a black blazer, holding a tablet, her smile polite and professional. But I’d know her anywhere. That mouth. Those eyes. That scar just beneath her jawline that she thinks no one notices. It’s her. It’s Maya Serrano. Or at least it was. Now, she calls herself Jenna Carr. My mouth curls into a pleased grin as I zoom in on the image. “Found you.”

My little escape for the night to be with my number one rebel partner, Ben. I padded across the room toward my dresser, opening a jar of lotion. The subtle scent of vanilla filled the air as I trailed my fingers over my arms, rubbing the cream in absentmindedly. My gaze landed on the small mirror propped on the corner of the dresser, catching a glimpse of the intricate tattoo curling along my collarbone. The mark. My mark. With a soft smile, I turned to face the mirror more fully, letting the towel slip just enough to reveal the dark, swirling design etched into my skin. I traced the lines with my fingertip, marveling at how something so permanent could appear so delicate.

Which is an answer. We pass a bakery and a pharmacy and a block of flats with all the lights on and someone's dog barking at the window. Normal things. I look at all of it. "I want the tattoo today," I say. He glances at me. "Now." "After that session I want something permanent that's about choosing, not about damage." I meet his eyes. "Is that too much." He holds my gaze for a moment. "I know a place," he says. The studio is small and clean, on a side street off Arbat, run by a woman named Vera who has both arms fully sleeved and the quiet efficiency of someone who has done this ten thousand times.

As if the blazing dark flame was covering him graciously. Averting eyes from him, I trailed my stares on the other two, they were dressed in a kind of different way too. Now no one can they are such a dangerous mafia trio master... except for Orion... he still seems as horrible as before... His gothic tattoos intact the blood-freezing aura surrounds him. I shivered thinking of my unfavorable encounters with the tattooed freak, he is horrible for the eyes of such a weak-hearted girl like me. As I part my lips and was about to urge them to hurry up, another bold perfect..what I can sexy in one go type of body proportion...Veronica... the smile on my face automatically vanished after seeing her

Then, I saw him standing by a door to a room, or somewhere. He had taken off his shirt. His upper body appeared bigger. They were tattoos all over his back, his trousers hung low on his waist, dangerously low. I could run my hands through this type of body all day without getting tired. He was receiving a phone call. He was immensely focused. I stood still, waiting for him to finish. His words didn’t make sense at first, until it got to the part where he said: “She doesn’t know a thing. I have it all under control… In the end everything will be mine.” His words made me tremble.

Until that little dare. They wanted me to get a real tattoo. Something small but edgy. A delicate crescent moon wrapped in thin, twisting vines, placed just above my right hip on my lower back. It would peek out under cropped tops and make me feel like I belonged. At least that’s what I kept telling myself on the drive over. The only problem was the artist. Jax—my stepbrother. Twenty-six, built like he bench-pressed motorcycles, covered in dark, aggressive ink that crawled up his arms and disappeared under the tight black t-shirts he always wore.

"I am sorry, Dennis. I don't want to cause trouble for you and Shana. I only show you that Erik also has the same tattoo as me" Dennis was silent for a few seconds trying to calm down and gather his thoughts together. Eventually, he nodded his head and made his way to sit back down. He looked at Bethany expectantly for her to start talking. But instead of talking, Bethany takes his hand and kisses the back of his hand. " Do you want to see my other Tattoo? Same of in at my back, some at my thigh and near my sensitive area. Now, I'm thinking of doing it at Butt"

She whispered, her voice shaking a little, telling me she was nervous. “Good job I was here to save you then, hey?” I said, noticing a delicate floral tattoo across her shoulder. Usually hidden by her mane of long dark hair when I have seen her in the bar. I gently ran my finger across it, and instantly I saw Gianna swallow heavily as goosebumps spread across her skin.

I’m entranced by the chain of butterflies tattooed around her upper arm. She says some bullshit closing stuff and leads the class through another om and the whole time I just sit and watch her. Trying to figure out what about this human is so damn intriguing to me. So intriguing she’s dangerous. She’s going to pull me off my mission—that’s something I just can’t allow. I resolve to get my ass up off the mat and get the hell out of there, but Jasmine’s musical voice becomes another invitation. “Thank you all for joining us tonight. La Cantina has food and drink specials for you all, so if you’d like to stick around and socialize, I’d love to have you. Namaste.”

Slowly the pain ebbed away and my neck felt numb with the occasional stinging. “Hazel? There is something on your neck?” Lorena stopped dabbing the wound and I felt my neck. The burn was gone but I couldn’t feel anything. Everyone was staring at me now and Cassie handed me a mirror from he purse. On my neck, was a freshly done tattoo, of a blood red eye next to a black crescent moon, intricately designed, with every detail standing out. I rubbed at it but it didn’t come off. Maybe the ritual did work.