Two forearms side by side with matching black script lettering tattoos on the inner forearm, reading Together forever never apart and Maybe in distance but never in heart.

Matching quote tattoos on forearms

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two inner forearms are shown side by side, each with a line of black script lettering. The left reads Together forever never apart in a flowing copperplate-style hand, and the right reads Maybe in distance but never in heart in a similar script. The ink is crisp and dark on smooth, light skin, with soft natural light and a plain background.

Lettering Forearm Quote Script Lettering Matching Couple Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain came sideways through Hollin Cross market that October, and Nan Teague kept her ribbons dry by sitting on them. Her sister Bea had gone over the moor the spring before, married to a salt-carter from Skell, and every Thursday since, Nan had sent a boy running to the coaching inn with a folded paper tucked in his cap.

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Every paper ended in the same line, written in her best looping hand: together forever, never apart. Bea answered twice that summer. Her letters said the road was long and the carter was slow, but also that she had learned to gut herring and could whistle through her teeth, and that the sea was too loud to sleep through. Then the answers stopped. Nan sold thread through a whole wet winter, not knowing whether the carter had drowned or Bea had simply been swallowed by the coast.

In March a scrivener came through with a case of inks and a board offering any words on card for a penny. He had grey hands and no patience for haste. Nan paid him and dictated slowly, and he wrote what she asked, but then she changed her mind and had a second line added underneath, the one Bea had once scratched into the lintel of their mother's door with a hairpin: maybe in distance, but never in heart.

The boy came back in April, soaked to the skin, with a reply that had travelled by carrier. It held no news at all, only a card bought from the same scrivener's brother in Whitby, its lettering already softened by salt air. Nan read it twice, then pinned it above the board where the canvas kept off the worst of the weather. When the next gust drove the rain under the awning, she was already reaching up to hold the card still.