Tear Tattoo Under Eye Novels & Stories

The buttons near her collar had come undone—revealing the faint outline of a black tattoo. Briella’s eyes narrowed. That tattoo… ***

"Please leave my home right now!" Callista glanced at the time and saw that it was already 2:00 am. She asked me in a trembling voice, "Where do you want me to go at this hour?" I shrugged, looking impassive. "That's your business. Why are you asking me?" I dragged her out and pushed her out of my home. The moment she walked through the door, she looked at me with tears in her eyes. "Tristan, can you give me another chance? I made a mistake. I really did!

My eyes became wet with tears of happiness as I too sent him waves of love and appreciation. We ripped ourselves away from each other reluctantly, only coming up for air. I looked on at my mark proudly, licking away the droplets of blood that had leaked out. I placed my mark just above Grayson's collar bone. It was a beautiful design, a crescent moon with intricate markings on the inside. I ran to the bathroom excitedly to see what Grayson had placed on me.

Tessa says, honestly, that she feels like her crazy pregnancy hormones are making her look like a bitch right now. "My childhood friend has changed," Hardin whispers in a small but still audible whisper to Tessa. "What do you mean?" Tessa knits her eyebrows together as she's confused by Hardin's words. Hardin pulls up the sleeve of his shirt and reveals the scar that Tessa once discussed. Not only that, Hardin also takes off his shirt, revealing the tribal tattoo that runs down his muscles to his shoulder. Right where the whipping scar was visible before, only because Hardin hated it, he tattooed the spot.

without thinking much she yanked her shirt up. Her eyes teared up as she caressed the small swollen tattoo on the side of her stomach but not just any tattoo it was small beautiful red roses with ALEXANDER written skill fully on it. Her lips trembled as her legs gave up and she fell on the floor crying hysterically. Not few seconds had passed that Alex barged into the room but stopped at door frame seeing Alizey on the floor crying in front of the mirror.

It looked like a sincere smile, not a sadistic one like calculating eyes. -This is what we're going to do to you- He turned around and pulled his shirt down a bit. He had a D tattooed on his scapula. Blue eyes or Mike did the same. Another D was there. -If there is no other remedy ...- I sighed.

"Give me five minutes to clean up here then we'll leave." "No problem," I murmured, sitting back down and slipping my phone from my pocket. "I'll wait." Theo nodded, going back to getting rid of the trash. I didn't watch him-although everything was screaming at me to look at him. He had taken his glasses off and used it to push his hair back, showcasing his dark eyes and darker eyelashes. Black tattoos ran across his arms, down to his hands and with our close proximity, I had noticed the tattoo behind his ear.

Through the rearview mirror, her figure grew smaller and smaller. At first, she hurried away in quick little steps. Then she broke into a run, her high heels striking the pavement faster and faster. Only then did my composure finally shatter. Covering my face, I let the tears spill through my fingers. The direction Delilah was running was the exact opposite of the road that led home. The path that was supposed to lead us to happiness had ultimately fallen apart because of betrayal.

The doctor quickly ordered the servants to clear the stuffed animals out. "She's sensitive to anything with fur. If she breathes it in by accident, she could choke." Margaret panicked and hurried to help move them out. Soon after, a guard came to report that Tyler had passed out from the pain after his eyes were gouged out. "What should we do with him?" he asked Neil. "Feed them to him," Neil replied coldly. "Maybe in his next life, he'll use his eyes better." The guard left with the order. A while later, Ollie's men came back as well.

The eyes of the wolf glow with white ink, glowing faintly under the overhead light. Scars…deep, long and old–slash through parts of it, like he earned both the ink and the pain layered underneath. I am staring too much and I force myself to look away. And immediately regret it. Because my eyes land on Nico. He's lifting weight, tattoos on full display, biceps bulging with each curl. His sweatpants ride low on his hips, teasing the dangerous V-line. His tattoo is sprawled across the left side of his chest, creeping down his ribs and disappearing into his pants. And another, a burning rose, thorns curling into flames that occupied his left arm and hand is rendered in dark, smoky ink.