Black and white photo of two raised hands showing matching fine line script tattoos that read love on the inside of the wrists.

Matching love script tattoos on two wrists

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two hands are raised toward the top of the frame, with the inner wrists facing the camera. Each wrist carries a small, identical black script word reading love, drawn with thin, even linework and solid black ink. The photograph is black and white, with soft lighting and a dark background, and the wearer's dark knitted sleeves are visible at the bottom.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Love Script Wrist Hand

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nell saw the signal before she heard the band, two hands lifted above the heads of the Saturday crowd, fingers loose, the sign they had used since they were girls to say come here, now. Across the floor at the Majestic, Dora stood by a pillar with her back to the bandstand, where the trumpet player was apologising to nobody for another wrong note. Nell lifted her tray of lemonade over a couple doing the Lambeth Walk and pushed through the coats.

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Dora didn't need to speak. Her hands moved quickly: the manager wanted the last waltz cut, the sailor from Hull had asked her to dance three times, and the girl on the cloakroom hatch had been crying into a tin of Bovril. Nell laughed so hard the lemonade slopped over her knuckles. They had built that signal in the years when their mother said the house was too quiet for two girls who talked with their fingers, and it had outlasted the house, the mother and the quiet.

When Nell reached her, Dora caught her wrist and turned it over. The ink on the inside had faded to a blue-black, two small words written in the careful hand of the tattooist on Briggate, who had charged them a shilling each and made them promise not to flinch. Dora tapped her own wrist, then Nell's, then pressed them together, palms up, so that the same word sat side by side in the glow of the bulbs.

The band struck up again, badly, and the floor filled around them. Nell felt the tap of Dora's fingers against her palm, a single quick word spelled out in the old language: stay. Nell didn't move. Let the sailor find somebody else.