A love unscripted
She heard voices but couldn't see them.
Footsteps were heavy, tender and deliberate and continuous right on the other side of the wall. Her wrists ached bound against a coarse rope that bit raw into her skin, every twist and turn causing tear and wound right on her wrist.
She struggled, the chair scraping faintly against concrete but the sound seemed to draw footsteps closer. The door creaked open, a tall and faceless shadow walked inside, with the black veil right over her face.
The lady walked in slowly, wearing a long sleeve pushed carelessly up her arm, revealing the tattoo: a thin black needle threading through the skin, beneath it the scar.