Interlaced Celtic heart knot tattoo with teal and blue shading and the letters K and R, on the inner wrist and forearm.

Celtic heart knot with initials on the wrist

Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A heart-shaped Celtic knot is tattooed on the inner wrist, with two script initials, K and R, sitting in the upper loops. The interlaced black linework is bold and even, and the bands are shaded in teal and blue-green. The design is centred on the forearm against a plain skin background, with a brown floor visible around the edges of the frame.

Forearm Celtic knot Heart Initial Script letter

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The sports hall at Hollins Road still smells of floor polish and oranges, and the name badges are the same sticky labels they used for the Year Nine trip to Whitby. You find yours on the trestle table beside the urn, then you spot hers, Kerry Lowe, on a lanyard someone has turned back to front. She is standing where the trophy cabinet used to be, laughing at something a man with a receding hairline is telling her, and from across the room you cannot tell whether she has seen you.

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The two of you once spent a whole term on a single drawing in the back of Mr Abbott's geography book. It was a knot with no beginning, three hearts folded through one another, and you coloured it in with a teal gel pen you had nicked from her pencil case during double maths. She said a knot like that could only be undone by whoever tied it, so you promised never to undo it, which is the sort of promise thirteen-year-olds make before they know what promises cost.

She crosses the room with two paper cups of squash and hands you one without asking what you want. "Still got that book?" she says. You tell her it went into a skip in 2004 with the rest of the coursework, and she nods as though that were the answer she expected. Then she takes out her phone and shows you a photograph of a small inked knot, neat and dark, shaded at the edges in blue-green, with two letters tucked into the upper loops.

You look at it for a long time. Behind you the urn clicks off and the hall goes quiet except for the squeak of someone's trainers on the boards. "I never undid it," she says, and you realise she is not talking about the drawing at all.