Rose Forearm Tattoo Female Novels & Stories

A colourless glass table was right in the center of the sitting room with a little, one foot golden statue at the top of it. A large picture frame was at the other end with a picture of Aubert sitting on a red arm chair, both his arms on the rest and dressed in a grey suit. He looked a lot younger with just little white strands among his black hair and stubs on his jaw. His look was more masculine with his jaw perfectly sculpted, defined and his lips in a thin line. Almost like he was an older version of Leo.

I gasped in shock when I caught sight of what was written on his wrist. My name! Ria Rose. A name I called myself only in my diary. I remember writing it down as a wish that someday Adrian will love me so much and end up tattooing it on his body because he doesn’t want to forget about me. It had a heart drawn next to the name. One could never have guessed that he had such ink on his body. His long-sleeved work shirt covers it up well.

Jasmine shrugged while interlacing their fingers, saying, "Your right, tattoo doesn't ensure us being together. '' He stiffened, and she saw a sudden frigid aura. Has she made a mistake? '' Don't misunderstand me. My heart and yours have already become one in this life.'' As she spoke, she leaned in closer to him while smiling warmly. To divert the subject, he replied, "This is pretty. '' Her tattooed arm was easily picked up by his hand. On her wrist, that is. His brow furrowed slightly. It resembled a burning rose or something similar. At the petals and edges, the hues appeared to diminish and fade.

“Th-that’s it. It’s perfect.” He pulls a marker out and holds my hand. “Start with the point of the blade here?” “Yeah.” He flicks the blue marker on my skin close to my wrist. “End of the blade here?” He holds the marker close to my skin. “Longer.” I nod as he slides the marker up my arm. “Right there.” He flicks the marker again, then draws a circle. “Then the rose will be about here.” “Perfect.” “Leni, you sure you want a tattoo that size on your forearm? It’s pretty big.”

“It goes away after a few weeks.” Her eyes lit up. “Can I get one too?” Rosa ruffled her hair. “Of course, princess.” We picked our designs—Rosa chose an intricate floral pattern for her wrist, while I opted for a delicate crescent moon on my ankle. Francesca, of course, insisted on butterflies on both hands. As the artist worked, Rosa smirked at me. “We should get real tattoos next time.” I scoffed. “I don’t think Alaric would be thrilled if I came home with a full sleeve.”

I reply, pulling my pants up and making sure I’m good before I scoop Rosie up bridal style as it seems appropriate. I carry Rosie to the tattoo guy and she gets her tattoo. I decide her left shoulder is a good spot. I wanted to have her do it on chest, but I know a chest tattoo isn’t ideal and would probably give her parents a heart attack if they saw. I thought it would be a pain to make her cover it every time she has to see them. So, the shoulder seemed better and easier for her to cover. She takes the tattoo like a champ and when she is done we decide to head home.

She was so tight, so wet, always ready for me. I reached out and ran my hand over her delicate face. The tattoo on her forehead was so unique and beautiful that it looked like a tiara. If we had a daughter, she would have the same tattoo on her forehead. Then, she would also have a back tattoo of our pack. I wondered what it would look like. Kaya had a Crescent Moon Pack tattoo on her back. Two long lines ran up her spine, and at the top was a Crescent moon. What would be ours? We didn't have a sign for our pack.

I let out a shaky breath as I headed straight to the shower. I scrubbed my skin raw, hoping to wash away the memory of Rafaele’s touch. Even the thought of him gave me the chills. When I was finally clean, I put on a bathrobe and walked out of the shower. Standing in front of the mirror, I traced my fingers over my Mark-ink, the beautiful rose tattoo that Rafaele had threatened to ‘chop off.’ I wondered if he had just said that to scare me or if he’d actually rip it off my skin. I didn’t doubt he was capable of such.

And now this crow changed as soon as I wished it was white. "No way." I gasped as I marveled at the rose tattoo on my palm.

But not too far that I couldn’t feel her warmth. She settled instantly as I reached a hand to cup her cheek, tears drying, her breath coming out more steady reacting instantly to my touch. But as I turned her neck slightly, something caught my attention. When the moonlight slid across her bare shoulder, it lit up something I’d never seen before. A symbol. Not a bruise. Not a scar. A single small black rose, thorns wrapping around her shoulder like a bracelet, petals so perfectly inked they looked wet. The stem disappeared under the sleeve of her nightgown, but the flower itself pulsed with a faint crimson glow.