Page 135 of Rose
A slow smirk crept onto his lips as he pointed to the bare space along his ribcage. “Right here. I want it to look like my skin’s being torn open… like a rib is missing.”
Ahzii’s brow lifted in curiosity. “What’s that supposed to represent?”
It was a standard question she asked all her clients. Tattooing wasn’t just about ink to her, it was about meaning. About story. And the way he answered would help guide her hands.
“It’s biblical. Adam and Eve—”
“I know the story,” she cut in gently. “But why do you want it tatted?”
His gaze didn’t waver. “Because I believe God sent me my missing rib.”
Her breath caught.
The words clung to the air between them. She knew exactly what he was saying, but acknowledging it out loud felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, unsure whether she’d fall or fly.
Her body knew. Her silence knew. But her voice?
Not yet.
Savior continued, his tone softer. “And I want you to put a rose in the center… where the rib’s supposed to be.”
Her fingers twitched slightly. “Why… a rose?” Her voice barely held together.
He leaned in, the weight of his truth pressing against her hesitation. “Because like roses… she’s alluring.”
Ahzii didn’t respond. She couldn’t.
Her mouth opened, but nothing came. That name—Allure—suddenly felt like prophecy instead of a nickname. Like he’d spoken something holy into existence.
“Can you do that?” he asked gently, like he wasn’t peeling her open with every word.
She nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. But… can we smoke first?”
He chuckled, pulling a blunt from behind his ear like it’d been waiting for this exact moment.
“Yeah. Sin just dropped this new strain. Wants me to test it. You down?”
She eyed it warily. “Is it going to have me fucked up? Because Istillowe your brother an ass whoopin’ for what that last one did to my mama.”
Savior burst into laughter. “Nah, he said this one’s chill. Indica. Called itBy the Beach.”
She smirked. “I actually like that name.”
“It’s better thanSinister Cloud 3.0, or whatever dumb shit he came up with last month.”
They both laughed, the tension softening, even if it didn’t leave. Ahzii slipped on her gloves as Savior laid back, arm folded behind his head, his body relaxed andwarm under the soft glow of the living room light. She prepped her station, then sparked the blunt, taking a slow pull before passing it to him.
The moment felt intimate… quiet… like the start of something neither of them could stop.
Soft music hummed through the surround speakers, blending with the low buzz of Ahzii’s tattoo gun and the occasional thud of dogs roughhousing outside. Smoke curled lazily in the air, thick with the scent ofBy the Beach, and the moment felt like peace stitched together with threads of chaos.
Ahzii moved gently, her gloved hands gliding over Savior’s ribs with care. She was focused, but not enough to ignore the scars etched beneath his ink. Faint, but visible up close. His skin, dark and adorned with tattoos, tried to hide them, but she saw them. Deep ones. Ugly ones. Familiar ones.
She wanted to ask, but didn’t. Her own scars made her silent. Until he spoke.
“You keep looking,” Savior murmured, pulling from the blunt and exhaling slow. “Just ask me, Allure.”
She hesitated. The weed had her floating, relaxed, but the question was heavy. Still, she asked it.
