Phoenix Sternum Tattoo Novels & Stories

“I’m here for a tattoo.” He leaned back, arms folding across his broad chest. The motion made the fabric of his shirt strain. “You? A tattoo?” He laughed, low and cruel. “Let me guess. Tiny heart on your wrist? Or maybe a quote about ‘strength’ in some flowery script so everyone knows how deep you are.” I pulled out my phone and showed him the design. “Lower back. Crescent moon with vines. I have the reference.”

However, I realize that I don’t regret it. “All done,” the woman announces, scooting back in her chair and waiting until I sit up. “Do you want to see it?” “Please.” Nodding, the woman hands me a small hand mirror and then leads me to a full body mirror, which I face my back towards. Eyes widening, I let myself take in the large phoenix tattoo that has been intricately inked onto my skin, covering every inch of the horrible scar that I desperately tried to avoid seeing for the past five years.

But using silver made the normal pain of getting a tattoo about a hundred times worse. And she didn't just have one cute little heart or flower on her belly. No, she had a stunning Phoenix nestled between her breasts, its wings fanning out over her pert mounds, but designed so that the flesh around her nipples was left untouched- looking as though they were peeking out alluringly from behind the bird. And if that were not enough visual titillation, the tail of the bird curled around the entire left side of her torso and flared out into beautiful swirls and tail feathers covering her belly. Like her nipples, the skin around her belly button was left untouched revealing an enticing belly butto

Then it all came rushing back. I turned my head and saw him lying beside me, his chest rising and falling steadily. His face was still covered by the mask, his dark hair messy against the pillow. I didn’t know his name. I didn’t know anything about him. My heart raced as I slowly sat up, trying not to wake him. My dress was crumpled on the floor, and I grabbed it, slipping it on as quietly as I could. That’s when I noticed it—a tattoo on his forearm. A phoenix, its wings spread wide, the design wrapping around his muscular arm.

The Phoenix’s wings folded slowly. "You do not control fire." “Then how--?” "You will know what to do when the time comes for now, you wield with it." Silence stretched. The fire around us condensed, flowing toward me like a tide returning to the sea. The Phoenix straightened, its wings unfurling. A ball of fire surged from its chest and struck my sternum. I gasped. The mark seared itself into me, but not on skin, somewhere within. There was no pain.

(Five years later) Lyra’s POV I leaned against the dark tinted window of my limousine as it drove past the City. My reflection stared back at me, my face covered with a Phoenix shaped mask that only allowed my eyes and mouth to be seen, it was my Trademark. The world now knew me as The Phoenix, the name wasn't just branding. It was my story. I had risen from destruction, rebuilt by hands that should never have held me together, and now the very fire that consumed me was now my fuel and weapon.

6 years later- Ethan sat in the chairman’s seat, barely listening as a new employee delivered a presentation about the advertisement for a newly launched women’s perfume. “Another concept we can use is ‘Love That Lasts Forever.’ We can show a married couple’s moments through different stages of their relationship, first date, wedding, honeymoon, first home and anniversary. The wife uses the perfume in each scene, representing how the scent becomes a part of their journey and memories together. Tagline - 'For a Love That Lasts Forever. A Scent to Remember Every Moment.’”

He opened it to reveal not a ring, but a delicate necklace, a thin gold chain from which hung a small, exquisitely crafted phoenix, its wings spread in flight, tiny diamonds catching the candlelight like captured stars. “Tobi,” she breathed. “It matches your tattoo,” he said, his fingers trembling slightly as he lifted it from the box. “A phoenix for my phoenix. A reminder that you rose from ashes and found me in the flames.” He moved behind her to fasten it around her neck. The pendant settled just above her breasts, cool against her skin. When he returned to face her, his own eyes were wet. “There’s more,” he whispered. From another pocket he produced a second box, this one even smaller. W

The light scattering of hair on his lower abdomen disappeared into the towel and the only thing marring the beauty of his skin was the angry red mark on his chest, just a few inches away from his heart where he had been shot yesterday. Now that he was finally unclothed, I was able to see the tattoo on his left arm. It was a picture of a phoenix in flight and it was magnificent. The artist had focused on every tiny detail down to the red eye of the phoenix and somehow, it suited him. He was just as majestic as the bird.

He didn't seem to notice my little show though, but his gaze often settled on me. We finally settled on a design; a beautiful, delicate tattoo of a phoenix feather that curled and twisted into the shape of a blooming rose. It was perfect. The phoenix, a symbol of rebirth and transformation, and the rose, a symbol of beauty and growth. "It’s beautiful," I breathed, my eyes wide. "I love it." He smiled. "Good. Now, where do you want it? The location is important. It can make or break the design." I had no idea. "Where's the least painful area?" I asked sheepishly.