99) The Train
Vasili
I frowned a little as I looked up to the ceiling. Maybe this was a bad idea. "You don't think it's tacky do you?"
"Not at all. I think it's romantic," Alb, the tattoo artist smiled. He was just two years older than me with dirty blonde hair that was messier than mine and dark green eyes. He was skinny but well built. He had nearly the same amount of tattoos as myself and I found myself enjoying his company.
"You don't think he will hate it. I know it's a bit bold," I looked to my hip where he was adding a few final touches.
"I know if someone got a tattoo like this for me I would marry them on the spot. It's such a strong gesture I think if anyone hated it they would be an asshole," he smiled up at me before continuing with his work.
"You're right. Plus it is my skin after all."
"Exactly. Wear it with pride," he cheered as he cleaned it up.