Page 8 of Ghost Of You

I prepare for the session by donning a fresh set of gloves and grabbing a razor. I shave the area on his arm where the stencil will go, then carefully apply the stencil, ensuring every line is in place. I peel it off slowly and check for any smudges orerrors before smiling at him. “Check it out in the mirror,” I say, pointing to the large mirror on one of my walls.

Oscar stands in front of the mirror, his face lighting up with joy. “I love it!” he beams. “It looks just like him.”

He returns to the chair, placing his arm on the armrest as I prepare the colours. The tattoo will be mainly black and grey with a touch of blue in the collar. It doesn’t take long for me to gather everything I need.

As the tattoo gun buzzes to life, I glance at Oscar, who is watching me intently. “Are you ready?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice shaking slightly.

I start outlining the design with black ink, noticing him clenching his teeth. I can tell this is going to be a long day.

After two hours of tattooing—having completed the outline and started on the shading—we finally take a break to rest and refresh. I step out for a quick smoke and, when I return, I find Oscar sitting in the chair, absorbed in the photos on my wall.

He turns and smirks as he hears me enter. “Who’s the fit brunette in the pictures?” he asks.

“That’s my fiancée, Laelia,” I reply, and he whistles appreciatively.

“You have a worldie,” he grins, continuing to look at the pictures. “How old is she?”

“Twenty-nine,” I answer.

“I can see she’s heavily tattooed as well. She looks like she has a lot of floral black and grey work. Did you do that?”

I sit down and glance at the photo he’s referring to—a shot of Laelia and me on the beach during a holiday with Ethan and two of Laelia’s friends. Laelia is in a pink bikini, and I’m standing behind her, arms wrapped around her.

“No, she had most of her tattoos before we reunited. I’ve only done a few for her: the large butterfly on her stomach, the roses on her chest, the raven wings on the back of her neck, some dotwork in her inner right ear, and my name on the back of her left ankle,” I explain.

Oscar’s smile widens. “Dang! I’m envious, man. How long have you been together?”

“Six years. We dated in high school for a year before going our separate ways when she moved down south. We reconnected a few years ago, and the rest is history.”

“So, you’re childhood sweethearts?”

“Yeah, we are.”

Oscar’s eyes sparkle with interest. “Fancy telling me about it while you finish my tattoo? Don’t tell anyone, but I’m a sucker for a good romance story.”

“Sure,” I say with a smile, as I restart the tattoo gun. “I’d be happy to.”

Chapter four

As the sun begins to dip below the horizon and the final rays of light cast a warm glow over the street, I finish locking up the shop and carefully lower the metal shutters with a soft clank. The day has been long and full, but there’s a small, unexpected pleasure in knowing that Oscar sat through the entire session today. It’s easy to make assumptions based on appearances, but today proved that there’s often more beneath the surface. Perhaps it was the way I spoke about Laelia that caught his attention—her passion and stories have a way of captivating those who take the time to listen.

Understanding how taxing today has likely been for Laelia, given that she’s probably been working tirelessly at her desk at home, I decide to make a small but meaningful gesture. I head over to Blooms, our favourite flower shop, to pick out a bouquet for her. Laelia has always had a deep affection for flowers. Every spring, without fail, she dedicates hours to our garden, meticulously planting and tending to an array of colourful blooms. She believes that by cultivating these flowers,she’s contributing to a more beautiful world. Her enthusiasm is so genuine that it often inspires me as well.

Lately, however, I’ve noticed a change. Despite her usual enthusiasm for flowers, she hasn’t been adding any new ones to our home or garden. The vases that once filled every corner of our house with their vibrant colours and sweet scents have become noticeably scarce. It’s unusual, given how much joy she derives from them. Perhaps it’s a sign that she’s been overwhelmed, which is all the more reason for me to bring a bit of cheer into her day.

Blooms has always been special to us. Every August, we visit the shop to celebrate our anniversary. It’s a tradition that started on our first date six years ago, when I took her to the butterfly house out back—a serene escape filled with fluttering wings and colourful blooms.

10th August 2017

Hello Beautiful, I’m wondering if you’re free this afternoon.

If so, would you fancy going on a date?

I watch as the bubbles pop up on the screen while she types away, eagerly awaiting a response.

Laelia <3: Hello trouble! I’m free! What do you have in mind? Xx

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