Novel & Cerita Roman Numeral Hand Tattoo

He rolled up the first of his sleeves and stretched his hand out so it caught the light. His entire sleeve was a canvas of intricate tattoos, with a clock dominating the design, its inner gears showing and extending down to his wrists. Surrounding the clock was a blooming rose flower, its petals wilting. Delicate rose flowers bloomed around it, their petals hugging the clock, yet also wilting, as if succumbing to the passage of time. Dominating the top part of his hand was what I assumed was an angel, with a dark cloak over his body and a blade buried in his chest

Here I thought his tattoos were only on his hands but turns out it wasn't only them. His back was full of tattoos but one caught my attention in particular, it looked like an Angel that's on its knees, the wings looked broken and above it were two hands, holding one another tightly with the word brother written underneath them and above the Angel… the fallen angel. Ray loved his brothers more than I could ever imagine, to the point where he tattooed his own body with a constant reminder of it. Something I could never have unless it's Malia we are talking about. Alana, focus.

As in steaming-mounth-watering-panty dropping eyes popping out of my head-hot. Ryder's tattoos are on display. The viper wrapping itself around his right forearm is detailed and absolutely stunning. I can't see the word I know is tattooed above his right knee. Nor do I see the same word under Jem's collar bone when his back is too me. I absently trace the word on the left side of my ribcage the "A" starting right where my breast ends. My fingers pass over the cursive and four stars spread out around the letters. I was the only one who got the stars the others complaining it was too feminine for them. Huffing out a breath I take the last steps and head to the kitchen isle slipping onto a bars

I’m about to close the diary and put the picture back into the envelope, feeling a crushing weight of unanswered questions settle heavy in my chest, when something catches my eye. His hand. His left hand, resting on my mother’s waist, is partially visible. And there, on the back of his hand, near his thumb, is a small, dark tattoo. It’s not clear in the faded picture, but I can make out the distinct shape: a stylized, almost tribal-looking symbol, a sharp, angular design that looks like… My breath hitches. My entire body freezes. The blood drains from my face, leaving me cold, clammy. I know that tattoo.

“If I did, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.” He grins, leans in and kisses my lips and when he pulls away, his hand, fondle my left breast, making my legs go weak. “Most of my tattoos I used to cover up my scar so they don’t have any meaning, while others like the write up have a few meanings.” “What does this say, then?” I ask, my hand dropping to the part under his chest having a foreign language. “It’s not in English,” I add. He chuckles, plucking at my nipple in his hand. “It’s not.” he agrees, and eyes then drop to where my hand is, “It says whatever it takes. It’s in Latin, and that’s why you can’t read it.”

He pulled down his robe a little. “I would like it written in my heart,” Aeliana swung into action immediately. She stared at her handiwork proudly. It was a black tattoo, so the beauty really came out on his white, flawless skin. Demetrius, Carissa, and Valeria also tattooed theirs. Demetrius had the name 'Rissa' tattooed on his shoulder. Valeria had 'Miguel' on her chest, and Carissa had 'Metrius' On her shoulder as well. They stared at it in admiration. “My Lord, the sketchers are here,” a guard said from outside with a bow.

He holds his hands up and backs off. Lola pouts. “Being a girl suck sometimes.” Ryland strips down right in front of me. My gaze lingers on his bare chest. I swallow hard—he’s stunning. The tattoo etched on his stomach catches my eye, pulling my focus away from his sculpted body. It reads ‘Keep fighting.’ Words have never hit me quite as hard as those ones tattooed on his skin. I wonder why those words. What is the meaning behind them? I finally lift my head and look at his face.

They can ruin nothing. … Drying my hair, I look once again at the photo that laid on the table. A hand and a tattoo. The hand was so pale it looked like if the person was dead. But something in the picture called my attention. The hand was so delicate, beautiful and long nails. The tattoo over the hand had a weird symbol. I turn my head to the side but didn’t get to understand what it was. Deciding to flip the photo, I stop and notice it. A moon mark and something else. Frowning, I get the photo closer to my face.

“I can’t wait, Alessandro.” “Here…” He offered me the arm I was playing with. “Hold my hand.” I did as he asked and relaxed into my seat. The ride advanced, and my ears leaned towards the calm music playing while my eyes roamed here and there until I decided to study Alessandro’s hand. It was then that I noticed what the tattoos on his knuckles were. “F.I.O.R.E.” I read the letters out. I looked up at him. “What does this mean?”

I don’t miss the way her eyes flicker to my father, as if this brings back memories of her own ceremony. She then says something in an unknown tongue and I feel a brief burning sensation on the fourth finger of my left hand. My eyes widen in shock when I see an intricate, woven tattoo with the letter V in the center - Vega and Volkova. “We all understand the gesture that you are now making. Taking the hand of the one who loves you is the symbol of the unspoken bond you two share; a bond you made when you were both five years old, and a bond that still persists.”