ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 6:[ᴍ]
"There's one more," Charlie said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. She turned her back towards Gracie, pulling her hair aside to reveal the delicate outline of a butterfly tattoo on the back of her neck. The design was simple but elegant; the wings spread wide as if the butterfly were in mid-flight.
Gracie leaned in closer, her breath warm against Charlie's skin as she took in the tattoo. Her fingers reached out gently, barely brushing the edges of the design. "It's beautiful," Gracie whispered, her voice full of admiration. "Why a butterfly?"
Charlie hesitated, the vulnerability of sharing the meaning behind the tattoo making her heart race. "It's... it's a reminder of change. Of freedom. I got it after everything with my siblings... and my family." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "I guess I needed something to remind me that I could still fly, even after everything. That I could still... become something more."
Gracie's fingers lingered near the tattoo, her touch gentle but grounding. "That's incredible, Charlie," she murmured, her voice filled with sincerity. "You've been through so much, but you're still here. Still fighting." Charlie felt a lump rise in her throat, the emotions of the night catching up to her all at once. She hadn't expected Gracie to respond like this—to be so tender, so understanding. It made the walls she had built around herself feel fragile, ready to crumble.
"And..." Charlie hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper. "There's more. But I've never really shown anyone."
Gracie pulled back slightly, her gaze soft but attentive. "You don't have to," she said, her voice gentle. "Only if you want to."
Charlie turned back to face her, meeting Gracie's eyes in the dim light of the room. The tension between them was palpable, but it wasn't just physical anymore—it was something deeper, something raw and real. She swallowed hard, her decision made. She trusted Gracie, and somehow, in this moment, that was enough.
"I do," Charlie whispered, her voice firm but laced with nerves.
With trembling hands, Charlie reached for the hem of her shirt, hesitating for a brief moment before pulling it over her head. She felt the cool air hit her skin, but it wasn't the chill that made her shiver—it was the weight of showing this part of herself. Exposing the pieces of her that had been private for so long.
Gracie's eyes widened slightly, her gaze never leaving Charlie as she took in the tattoos that were now visible. Scattered across her abdomen and ribs were small, intricate designs, each one telling a story, each one a piece of Charlie's past. There was a delicate vine of flowers wrapping around her ribs, a simple bird near her heart, and a small constellation of stars just below her collarbone. The tattoos were subtle but beautiful, each one holding its own meaning, its own memory.
Charlie felt her throat tighten, the vulnerability of the moment overwhelming. "They are," she admitted softly, her voice barely audible. "Each one represents something I went through. Something I survived."
Gracie reached out slowly, her fingers brushing lightly against the constellation of stars just below Charlie's collarbone. "This one?" she asked, her voice gentle.
Charlie swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she spoke. "It's for my siblings. The stars... they're for them. I got it after they..." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, but Gracie understood. Her fingers lingered near the tattoo, her touch warm and comforting.
"You're carrying them with you," Gracie murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Always."
Gracie's hand moved slowly to the vine of flowers wrapped around Charlie's ribs, her touch gentle as she traced the design. "And this one?" she asked softly, her eyes flicking up to meet Charlie's.
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35 ᴍᴍ ꜰɪʟᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ I 🎀 𝒢𝓇𝒶𝒸𝒾𝑒 𝒜𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓂𝓈 [𝑔𝓍𝑔] 🎀
Romantizm𝘈 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘺. 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘦-𝘞𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘨𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘺, 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢�...