You were a tattoo artist, and you and your girlfriend were polar opposites. She was soft with a sunkissed palette, where you had a dark, more moonlit palette. She was currently seated in your tattooed chair, holding your hand tightly as she winced as the pen dragged across her skin. ———————————— “Ouch! That hurts, schön!” She cried softly, not literally but being dramatic with her whiny tone of voice. She squeezed your hand, eyes closed tightly as you continued to stain her skin.