The last needle pierces his skin, leaving a warm sensation that spreads slowly. You sigh, eyes closing for a moment. A simple work of art is now engraved on his forearm, a lasting memory of this day.

When you open your eyes, your gaze falls on a pair of eyes full of admiration staring at you. Your fingernails have unknowingly left faint red marks on his arm. "Sorry, I didn't mean to," I say softly.

"It's okay," he answers softly. "It just makes everything feel more real." A faint smile forms on his lips. His gaze shifts from his wound. "Did I hurt you?" I ask.

He shakes his head slowly. "No, Baby. You didn't." , "Come here," he says, his voice full of tenderness. You obey, standing beside him. Your heart beats fast when you hear his next request. "I want you to tattoo my name on my bicep," he says firmly. "What do you mean?" you ask, shocked.

"You can't do that, it's permanent," I say again, this time in a firmer tone. "That's the point," he replies, his smile growing wider.

The memory goes back to the first day you met. The afternoon sun shone on his radiant face, his smile like the morning sun warming your heart. At that time, you never thought that that brief meeting would change your life so much.

You often spent time together, sharing stories, laughter, and dreams. Every moment you went through felt so beautiful, as if time had stopped just for the two of you.