QUOTE : I turned my wrist over and smiled at my very own butterfly imbedded artfully and permanently into my skin. It was simple…just a black outline...a cookie cutter tattoo. At least that was what Max had called it. Gently I traced the outline and remembered the day I got it. I was just eighteen, and scared to death, but I wanted it so badly. To make me feel better, Max decided to get one as well. It would be his sixth tattoo…not his first time under the ink gun. He was a pro in my eyes and so having him there helped. He teased me about my choice saying I was too girly, but when the work was done, he had looked at me with admiration. “It suits you,” he had whispered. “It’s pretty and uncomplicated…just like you.” He’d leaned in and kissed me gently. I can still feel the scrape of his stubble and the warmth of his lips. The hazel eyes were earnest, as he pulled away. “What did you get?” I had asked, still overwhelmed by him. That crooked grin set the butterflies to flight in my stomach. He’d chuckled and went for the hem of his shirt, lifting it up on the left side. I’d seen the beautiful angel he had gone back time and time again to be finished. It was a twist of wings and shadows and it raveled down the entire rib cage ending just at his hip. It was a masterpiece. I had admired it for an instant before I noticed the change. I had covered my mouth and gasped in surprise. Woven into one of the angel’s wings was my name.