Black line drawing of a heart outline with flowing script lettering running along its edges, shown in three variants on a white background.

Heart outline with script lettering

Lettering · Black and grey · Flash

The image shows a heart outline built from curved script lettering in one version, with two solid black heart outlines beside it in a mirrored pair. The script is calligraphic and set in black ink on a white background. Composition is an even row of designs, with the lettered heart at the top and the two plain outlines below.

Lettering Heart Script Quote Lettering Outline

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The band at the Ocean Ballroom has run out of waltzes, so they play a foxtrot nobody asked for, and you stay against the pillar because you have never once been good at this. Your shoes pinch. Your mother's brooch is pinned to the wrong side of your coat. Across the floor a young man in a borrowed suit is doing the same thing you are doing, which is watching everyone else without moving his feet.

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You cross anyway, because the girl who dared you is already laughing behind her glass. He says his name is Desmond and that he isn't a dancer either. "I count," he says, "one, two, three, and then I apologise to whoever I've trodden on." You tell him you can hear the rhythm underneath the music, and he looks at you as though you've spoken another language. Then he laughs, a short startled sound, and you realise it is the first time anyone has looked at you like that all evening.

You talk through three numbers, standing still in the middle of the floor while couples swing past you. He tells you about the lighthouse in his grandfather's village, how from the top you can see France on a clear day if you lie to yourself a little. You tell him about the notebook in your bag, where you draw the faces of people who leave early. He asks to see it. You say no, then yes.

At the last waltz he holds out his hand and you take it, and the two of you turn slowly and badly in the same wrong direction. When the lights come up he is still there, the notebook open on the sticky table between your empty glasses. On the page, in your careful pencil, is a heart drawn so small it could fit on a shilling, and round its edge you have written the things you both noticed tonight, the things everyone else was too busy dancing to see.