“Where do you want it?” I ask. She looks at my wrist for a moment.
“I want it in the same place as yours,” she says.
I smile and shake my head. “Yeah, let me get things flipped and cleaned.”
I finish a small brush stroke but don’t fill it in. I add small lines to make it look like the strokes left behind from acrylics or oil paintings.
“Any more?” I ask her. She shakes her head, no, and I get her wrapped up.
“You’re so good. I get why people are on a wait-list to see you,” she says. I look up at her, wondering how she knows that.
“How do you know I have a wait-list?” She shrugs.
“I looked up the tattoo parlor online, and it said you were a wait-list artist. I also saw that you were booked out for half the year.”
“Oh,” I say. I didn’t know they did that.
“I guess I’m just special.” I grin and shake my head.
“More than you know, love,” I murmur against her lips.
On our walk home, I checked my email and saw three more commission requests.
“We have more people asking for commissions,” I say. She looks at me, biting her lower lip.
“This is overwhelming,” she says quickly. A car horn blares, and she jumps. I frown and pull her a little closer to me.
“It is, but we can do it. This is what both of us wanted individually. It just happens to be together now.”
“Together or not at all.” I nod and kiss her temple. I’m insanely overwhelmed, too. I don’t like thinking about it. I don’t like the feeling of the pressure that seems to be building on both of us to provide and meet the expectations others are putting on us. Revna is trying to live the best she can despite her grief and the demons she fights on an average day. I’m just trying to keep it together and ignore how every time I think of Dad, I want to puke.
The judgment of others when it comes to art is heavy. It’s one of the scariest and most vulnerable things someone can do. It isn’t just an expression; it’s a piece of someone’s soul that they pulled from within themselves for everyone to see. When I do it with Revna, it doesn’t feel as scary. At least I have someone who knows exactly what it feels like because we made the piece together. That’s how I’ve felt since we started to work together. I’ll never forget what that woman said at the Plaza.
Revna and I are something special. We are a match in every way I can think of. She is quite literally my other half. I know in my gut I would have never been able to make the things we have made together without her. My only hope is as these commissions come in, we manage to keep our minds right with one foot still in reality. I think that will be the hardest part.
Chapter 76
Lachlan
Iwakeup,andRevna isn’t in bed. I move my hand over her space, and it’s cold. I know she doesn’t have work today. I lift my head to find her sitting on the couch, looking out the window. I stare at the way the morning sun shines on her. The diffused beam hits her profile, illuminating her eyes and nose while her mouth is shadowed.
Today is another day I don’t want to get up, but I will. For her, for us. She is my reason to keep trying right now. That’s what I keep telling myself. I would rather sleep the rest of the day, but we have our last piece to do.
I force myself to get out of bed and head to the bathroom. After I’m done, I find a cup of steaming coffee on the counter waiting for me. “Thank you, love,” I murmur while I blow on the hot liquid. She hums and leans back.
“Why are you already up? You don’t have to work today.” She nods.
“I know, I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking.”
I plop down next to her and set my cup on the table, reaching for her arm. She lets me move it as I inspect the tattoo. Then, I press a kiss right above the ink. “Looks good,” I say and reach for my coffee again.
The hot liquid slides down my throat, and I sigh, leaning back into the sofa. “What’s up, babe? Why couldn’t you sleep?” I ask her.
She purses her lips and looks down into her coffee. She’s weighing what to say, and I almost tell her to spit it out.
“I have an idea,” she says.
“Ok?” I drawl.