He had four tattoos. All four of them were because of her. She kept track of them in her head, and sometimes, when he wasn't looking at her, she searched his body over, looking for them, even when they were hidden. One was a stick figure, clearly feminine, beautiful in it's simplicity, with a pair of angel wings, and a little halo. The caption said "we love you." It wasn't big or complicated. Just a little sign on his wrist. She didn't have to ask what this one was for, she knew it the moment she saw it. The baby girl they almost had, the daughter they never got. One was a star, on his other wrist. At first glance, it seemed like a simple star. The lines weren't very straight, and it was by no means perfect. But you looked closer...You had to look very close, she knew this, otherwise you would miss it. The lines that made up the star, all said the same thing. The name "Daniel" over and over and over again. For the little boy they did have, the perfect little angel that she knew would always have her heart. Those two, at least, she could understand. It didn't matter what they did, their children were forever, and ever. The rational was a little bit better. But she still thought he was an idiot. And the next two...those were the ones she didn't understand. One was a small little evergreen tree. He said it was for the Christmas that she finally came home to him. She told him he was an idiot. A tree? Who puts a Christmas tree onto their shoulder? Didn't he know what forever meant? Forever was an awfully long time to have such an awfully stupid thing forever branded into his skin. The last was a heart. It had her intitals in them. Not "M", M was for her nickname, he told her. He loved the real her, the girl behind the illusion, not the one she liked to pretend to be. No, "M" had a cold, hard heart, but "V"...now there was a girl worth loving. And so, "VB" sat safely inside the little heart. At first, she had pointed out to him that her last name began with a "P", not a "B". He had then pointed out to her the ring sitting in the black velvet box. It was a girly tattoo, if she ever saw one, and a fact that she never failed to point out. Ah, he said, but he was manly enough to get a girl tattoo, wasn't he? It was usually after a comment like this that he gathered her up in his arms, and kissed her senseless. Well. It was hard to argue with something like that. But still, she argued, it was permanent. No matter what he did, it was always going to be there. He couldn't get rid of them. What if they ended? Was that what she was afraid of? he always questioned. Such a stupid thing to get worked up over. He said forever. He meant forever, none of this bullshitting around. Nah, he knew it was permanent. He was glad it was. Was forever a scary word for her? A tattoo wouldn't allow her to disguise herself so easily, it would force her to put a little bit of herself out there, on the line for all the world to see. But sometimes, at night, when the house was quiet, and his breathing was steady, she traced her fingers around the little heart and chewed on her lip. So this was what forever was about? That was what it was like to feel something for someone so deeply, so incredibly passionately that you were willing to risk a bit of skin and a lot of courage to put it out there for the world to see? Forever... Forever sounded nice. It looked even better traced against the back of her neck in delicate, solid black letters.