Zara's POV
The trip to the tattoo parlor was notably brief, much to my dismay. Zen kept assuring me that the pain was minimal, but I couldn't shake off my nerves; my skin was delicate, and I was sure it would sting.
Still, I felt a thrill at the thought of getting a matching tattoo with him. It surprised me, too—I never thought Zen was the type to indulge in something as cheesy as this.
"We're here, sir," Samuel announced, and immediately, a wave of anticipation hit me.
"Princess, relax... I can sense your nerves," Zen pointed out, a spark of reassurance in his eyes.
"Honestly, I never thought I'd be getting a tattoo. Needles aren't exactly my favorite thing," I admitted, still feeling the jitters.
Calmly, he took my hands in his, his grip steady and reassuring. "I'll be right here with you, holding your hand the entire time. You won't even feel when she's done, I promise. Just breathe." I took a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs.
