After Jennifer explained the daisy, their conversation slowly faded away as he lost himself in the art. He’d taken his time with this tat, putting special care into every single line. The design was simple, honest, elegant. It reminded him of the woman lying in front of him, the beauty who was going to wear his art for the rest of her life. He was always flattered, even a little humbled, by the people who put so much faith in his abilities that they allowed him to draw on their skin with permanent ink. It was a gift countless clients had given him even though he’d never admitted such to them. Jennifer was different from the usual Midnight Ink clientele. She didn’t want the tattoo to hide past scars. Many people—male and female—used body art to conceal terrible wounds, physical and emotional. Caliph understood their reasons, felt their pain, and always prayed his art would somehow help them find peace again. Neither was she trying to draw attention to herself, to appear tough or in-your-face or cool, which, sadly, seemed to be the reason for getting a tat amongst a lot of the younger clients.
