27 tattoos {a.i.}

Two.

-

Her oversized white hoodie hung down a little too low, revealing Roman numerals inked by her collarbone.

"MVMXLII..." He trailed mesmerized by the contrast of the black writing on her pale white skin.

"1942," She whispered barely inaudible as her eyes began to gloss over.

"Wanna talk about it?" He asked carefully, whilst rubbing her hand with his thumb. She quickly shook her head 'no' and resumed working.

-

"Davie, you know I love you to the moon and back," her grandmother said stroking her hair.

"And my love for you is a wide as the sky," Davie replied grinning ear to ear.

Davie adored her her grandma. She always wanted to be just like her. So selfless and caring. Her grandmother would run herself dry, just to make sure the little kid got his lunch, so the homeless guy had knew shoes, make sure Davie was smiling whenever she was around her.

Now, Davie's grandmother was sick, her grandmother wouldn't listen to the doctors, or the reports, or even Davie. She would plead for her grandmother to stop working so hard. But according to her grandmother, she was well enough to cared for the uncared for, to put her cancer burdened body last. And it killed her.

The only person in the whole world who deserved the best life ever was taken away by a terrible disease. Her grandmother battled the cancer as well as she could until it finally ate her up.

A piece of Davie died that day, and has since never returned. But she attended the funeral in a low cut picky gray sweater showing off her new tattoo. A black engraving of the year the most amazing woman was bore to the earth.