Page 40 of Monochrome Without You
My fingertips brush over the glass. “This one.”
Trey steps beside me, eyes flicking to the design, then back to me. “Yeah?”
I swallow and nod. “Yeah.”
A slow, knowing smile spreads across his lips. “Alright then, Jules Banks. Let’s mark your bold new era.”
Trey gets me settled in a black leather chair, the buzz of the tattoo machine filling the quiet space between us. He’s still smiling, like this is the best part of his day, and for some reason, that eases some of my nerves.
Everything moves quickly as he preps my left wrist. The same one Corbin used to rub his thumb over absentmindedly whenever he held my hand. I swallow down that thought before it has a chance to settle and focus on Trey instead.
“Nervous?” he asks, his voice light.
“A little,” I admit.
“It’s just a tiny tattoo, Jules. You’ll survive.”
I exhale slowly. “Yeah. That’s kind of the point.”
Trey gives me a curious look but doesn’t press. He just adjusts my wrist gently in his grip and lowers the buzzing needle to my skin.
I force myself to breathe through the initial sting. It’s sharper than I expected, but not unbearable.
“Breathe,” Trey instructs softly, his voice smooth and reassuring. “It’s easier when you breathe.”
“Right.” I let out a shaky breath as his green eyes flick up to mine for just a second before he focuses back on his work.
“How many tattoos have you done?” I ask, needing the distraction.
Trey tilts his head slightly, thinking. “A couple thousand, I guess? Stopped keeping track after the first few hundred.”
“That’s impressive,” I say, watching the way his hands move with practiced ease.
He smirks. “Thank you.”
I stay quiet after that, watching him work. There’s this little thing he does with his tongue when he concentrates. It darts out slightly, resting against his lower lip. It’s a small, unintentional habit, but it makes him seem… real.
I don’t know where this is going, but maybe the unknown is a good thing. Maybe not knowing is exactly the push I need.
Be bold, Jules.
“All done,” Trey says after a few more minutes.
I glance down at my wrist, a small, surprised smile tugging at my lips. A tiny paintbrush. Simple. Subtle. A piece of me I thought I’d lost, permanently inked onto my skin.
Trey carefully bandages it up, looking proud of his work. “There. Now you’re officially a badass.”
I chuckle, flexing my fingers experimentally. “Guess I am.”
“And since you just let me permanently mark your body,” he teases, his smirk playful, “you’re officially locked in for our date. No backing out now.”
I smirk back. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Trey gives me a lingering hug goodbye, promising to text about our plans for the weekend. Then, I step outside into the late afternoon sun. The warmth seeps into my skin, golden light filtering through a canopy of orange and yellow leaves.
Today is a new beginning. A new chapter. One where I get to decide where my story goes.
Chapter Ten
