Black and grey fine line tattoo of two small outline hearts with curved accent lines on the inner wrist.

Two outline hearts on the inner wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A hand is raised at the top of the frame and the inner wrist and forearm are shown against a plain pale background. Two small outline hearts sit on the wrist, one slightly lower and angled, with two short curved lines beside the upper heart. The linework is thin and even, and the tattoo is entirely black ink with no shading or colour.

Fine line Forearm Heart Outline Wrist

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 Saltergate market for nine days running, and the ribbon-sellers lost their colours to it. Nell Harker kept her cart under the cheese hall roof and sold only what wet weather could not spoil: buttons, bootlaces and brass pins. Across the square, where the fish stalls dripped, a boy called Aldo Pim whistled the same three notes every morning, a tune his grandmother had taught him to call the goats home from the lower fields.

Keep reading

Nell did not look up for the first six mornings. On the seventh she heard the whistle break halfway through the second note, and when she looked, the boy had lost his cap to a gust and was chasing it towards her cart, laughing with water running off his chin. He caught the cap, then a pin she had dropped, and pressed it into her hand with the point turned inwards so it would not prick. "Two for the price of one," he said, meaning nothing by it, and went back to his eels.

That night Nell drew in the condensation on the cart's window. She made two hearts, one lower and tilted as if it were leaning to listen, and beside the upper one she set two short curved strokes, the way a whistle looks when it has been sent across water. By morning the rain had taken the top heart and smeared the strokes, but the lower one stayed, thin and stubborn in the grain of the wood.

She never crossed the square. She sold her laces and he sold his fish, and every Friday the three notes came over the puddles and she answered with the same three. Years later, when the cart had gone to kindling and the market had moved to the new hall, she still said the lower heart had been drawn with the most care.