Two matching script tattoos reading 'our bond is everlasting' on a pair of inner wrists, each ending in a small heart, one red and one dark.

Matching 'our bond is everlasting' script on two wrists

Lettering · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

Two wrists are shown side by side, each carrying the same black script reading 'our bond is everlasting' with a small heart shape at the end of the line. The lettering is thin and clean with even linework, and the left heart is red while the right is dark. The hands are raised at the top of the frame and the tattoos sit centred in the lower two-thirds of the image.

Lettering Forearm Script Text Heart Matching tattoo Couple

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain came down on the Saturday market at Harrowgate the way it always did in November, running off the tarpaulins and pooling in the gutters between the fish stalls. Maud Orrell sold thread from a tin box at the far end of the row. One wet morning two girls, Ivy and Nell Carrow, came in out of the weather with a single length of red wool they had bought from her the week before. They wanted it cut in two so each could carry half.

Keep reading

Maud cut it with her good shears and told them that a thread divided is only a thread unless someone writes the promise down. She gave them a stub of pencil and a scrap of brown paper torn from a feed sack. Each girl wrote the same line in her own hand: our bond is everlasting. Nell drew a small heart at the end, pressed hard, and Ivy drew hers in the dark pencil she kept for accounts. Maud pinned both papers under her awning, where the rain could not reach them.

Ivy went to the coast when she was seventeen, and Nell stayed on at the market with the tin and the shears. Twenty winters passed. One morning Nell came to the stall alone, shaking water from her coat, and asked whether the words had held. Maud took down the old paper and held it to the grey light. The dark pencil was still sharp as the day it was written. The red heart had run into the brown paper and faded to a pale pink smudge.

Nell stood a long while looking at it. Then she asked for her own half of the wool back, and Maud said there was nothing left to return. Nell laughed and folded the paper into her pocket anyway. The rain kept falling on the fish stalls, but the dark words stayed put, which was, Maud thought, the only sort of everlasting the market had ever known.