Chapter 1
This story is purely fictional and involves mature themes. Please do not Even think of copying my work . Constructive criticism is appreciated , but spreading misinformation or just simply bad mouthing anyone or anything within the story will not be tolerated.
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Prologue
-Kian
People ask me all the time — “Who is she?”
They point at the sketch.
The one on the wall, or the one I just inked.
Sometimes the face is clear, sometimes it's just a shadow — a jawline, a smirk, a stare that feels too real.
But it’s always her.
I say she’s no one.
Just a design I’ve been playing with.
A face I can’t shake.
I smile like it’s nothing, like she’s nothing.
But she’s everything.
I can’t remember the last time I designed something that wasn’t her.
Even if it’s not obvious. Even if it’s hidden.
There’s always a piece of Lia in every tattoo I do.
A freckle. A line. A curve only I would notice.
I don’t know if that makes me loyal or just pathetic.
She left a year ago — not quietly, not gently.
Lia was never soft about anything.
She was fire in a body, chaos with a voice, and I was the idiot who thought I could hold onto a storm.
I ink her because I can’t speak her name anymore.
Because saying it still tastes like regret and salt and things I should’ve done differently.
This shop, this chair, these machines — they’re the only places where I can breathe without choking.
But even here, she haunts me.
In the way the sunlight hits the couch where she used to sit.
In the playlist I still haven’t changed.
In the half-full bottle of root beer she left behind.
I ink her into strangers because I don’t know how to let go.
And maybe I don’t want to.
So yeah — when they ask who she is?
I say, “No one.”
But in my head, I whispered — she was mine.
