Roman Wilson Butterfly Tattoo Novels & Stories

He stopped midway through the sentence. Almost hesitant. His eyes shifted downward briefly. Toward her left hand. "I like the tattoo." His finger pointed lightly in its direction. A small butterfly design nestled between her thumb and index finger. "It looks really neat." Mary glanced at it. Then back at him. "Does it mean anything?" he asked. A smile appeared on her face. A real one. "Yes." "Yes It does." Mary raised her hand slightly so he could see it better. "It's a butterfly with an M shape worked into the design."

“You had your initial tattooed on me, yes.” He shook his head and touched the tattoo on her ankle. “No. See, this is the heart. Half of the heart was extended down to form the letter J. Beside it is a butterfly. The body of the butterfly with a dot at the top is the letter I. The top part of the butterfly wing, is actually curved to form the letter N. Didn’t you notice why those lines were thicker than the rest of the lines?” Julianne stared at her ankle, making out the lines of her tattoo.

Upon waking up, Rose was surprised to see Roman in bed, working on his laptop, on heavens know what, looking like he was still naked, and as ravishing as ever. She was tempted to trace his tattoos with her fingers, and see if they were as callous as the man or not. One of the tattoos was of a coweb, with the number 1 on it, and it was stretching above his right shoulder. As for the second tattoo, she couldn’t make out what it was exactly, but covered the skin from shoulder up to his neck.

But I'd taken what I could from it. I'd gone to a tattoo artist the very next week. Described the placement, the shape, the size as best as I could from what Alexander had said and from photos I'd managed to find. A butterfly. Small, sitting just below the collarbone on the left shoulder. I'd had it done and then I'd waited for another opportunity. Hoping that if Alexander was vulnerable enough again, confused enough, I could make him believe for long enough that it would matter. That closeness, even mistaken closeness, might lead somewhere real.

"Look at this. I took this last week when we were at the gym." I looked at the screen. It was a photo of Roman’s arm. He was lifting a heavy weight, and his sleeve was pushed up high near his wrist. There was a tattoo there. It was a small, delicate flower. "It’s a flower," I said. "So what? Lots of people have tattoos." "It’s not just a flower, Scarlett," Zane said. "Do you know what kind of flower that is?" I looked closer. "It looks like a daisy."

(You act like I can't take care of myself plus I have an assassin with me) "It's still no," he says "I'm going to get ready you better not leave without me," he says and walks upstairs while the guys to the same. "He does realize were going to do that anyway right," Rae says I shrug my shoulders to her and we walk to my car and hop in to get Nova soon we've picked her up and were at the tattoo parlor give the tattoo artist our ideas except Nov. I decide on a rose on my under boob, butterfly's on the bottom of my thumb bone, a sleeve of flowers on my arm, and a heart on my inner wrist. Rae got the same inner heart as me, but she also got an arm sleeve that had a lion with blue eyes and flower

“You see? I have a butterfly of my own!” It was located just to the side of my collarbone, so that it wouldn’t be visible even if I wore short sleeves. It was tiny, but the butterfly was gorgeously inked with wings that were blue at the top that faded to green at the bottom wings. “My middle name is Caria, which is a species of butterfly as well. So I got the tattoo made with special colored ink.” The honk of a car horn told me that my mother was here to pick me up. Shoving the pendant into his hands, I got up from the stairs and dusted myself off.

“Do…do you want to see it?” “Only if you want to show it to me,” I say, my voice quiet. “I do.” She pulls her fingers out of mine and turns around. Chloe lifts her shirt, slowly revealing her back to me. There, covering her entire back, is a watercolor tattoo of a black bird in mid-flight. Its body is curved in a “c” shape, its wings spread overhead. The background is filled with splashes of color: teal, green, and purple. And the words “Take these broken wings and learn to fly” are inked between the bird’s wings.

And I pulled out my phone and turned it on and I showed him a photo of what I was looking for. He called the other tattoo artist over and showed it to him. The guy said to give him about half an hour and he’d be ready to do it. So we sat down and waited for him to be ready. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.” Riley said. “I don’t care what the guys think. I already have a big one down the bottom of my back. This is just another one that isn’t going to bother me at all.” I said. “Well, I think that wolf is really beautiful. It’s not aggressive or anything like that.” She said.

They weren’t the kind that healed clean; some were pale, others a little darker, like they’d been through something quite rough. Then there were the tattoos. On the left side of his chest, close to where his heart should be, was a small name written in cursive — RIA. I couldn’t tell who she was, but it looked… personal. Right above his collarbone on the other side, another name, IVY. The writing was simple but bold, like something that carried weight. And on the top of his forehead arm, I noticed a single wing, slightly shaded, fading toward the edge half complete.