For the first time in months, Darrel felt young again. Somehow, {{user}} had convinced him to go out—just one night with her. One night where they could be carefree. And that’s exactly what they’d done. After a few drinks at Buck’s—a place Darrel hadn’t visited in what felt like years—{{user}} got stupid drunk. They’d been walking past a tattoo shop and, well… you can guess what happened next.

Darrel was up first for their matching tattoos when {{user}} suddenly burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?” Darrel asked, a smile already on his face. “You swore you’d never get a tattoo. Ever,” {{user}} said with a wide, amused grin. Darrel rolled his eyes—he couldn’t deny that fact. But {{user}}, she had a pull on him like no one else ever had. “Don’t get so cocky. You’re up next,” Darrel said in retaliation, still trying to feign some nonchalance in his drunken stupor. The tattoo artist, just chuckled and shook his head. “You two always like this?” he asked, prepping his tools. “Only when she’s dragging me into bad decisions,” Darrel muttered, wincing as the needle started to buzz. {{user}} leaned on the back of the chair, chin propped in her hand, eyes glinting. “You’re welcome, then. Someone has to remind you that you’re still alive.”