The first few hours were painful, but the ohat followed were far worse, filled with an ag iy that felt like tless shes. Each stroke of the needle brought a new jolt of agony, drawing out faint groans and involuntary spasms from Billy. Ten hours into the process, the artist’s hand remaieady and precise, masterfully etg every detail. The emerging tiger on his back came alive with every stroke—a vivid, snarli taking shape in bold colors. It was mesmerizing to watch the transformation, the raw power of the tiger materializing on his bare skin.

  Getting tattooed was, for some, an uling experience—a ritual of permanend self-expression. A tattoo was meant to symbolize something meaningful, to breathe life into an idea or memory. The tiger symbolizes fidence, wisdom, and the ce to overe challenges. Many chose back tattoos as a vas for their identity, beliefs, or life experiences. But for Billy, the reason was simple: he loved and admired the tiger, the ultimate predator. The Siberian tiger, fierd majestic, was a creature of snowy forests, owning its domain with a blend of grad raw power.

  -There are still some details to refine- Paul said with a sigh, stepping back to assess his work. He seemed genuinely satisfied, even proud of the piece—it was a magnifit challenge. Billy’s back burned, his arms ached, and even his fihrobbed from gripping the chair for so long.

  -What details are left?- Billy asked, his voice tinged with exhaustion. The pain, though excruciating, made him feel alive in a way few things could. It was a fleeting thrill, a paradoxical reminder of life.

  -We’ll hahose in the session, in ten days,- Paul replied, equally worn out after finishing the intricate bck outlihe work was stunning, but it had taken its toll.

  -Ten days sounds fair,- Billy muttered, rolling his shoulders despite the searing ache.

  -ime, we’ll yer in the whites. It’ll be aen hours, though. Holy, most people ’t hahis level of pain—they usually stop at eight hours. You’ve got guts, kid, " Paul said, gng at Billy’s blood-smeared back before carefully ing it and ing it with clear film, applying a protective yer of oi.

  -Michael, did you hear that?- Billy called out.

  -Loud and clear,- Michael’s voice echoed from a distance.

  -I’ve got everything noted. First, ing: use lukewarm water and a gentle gel soap from that shop on 44th, twice a day. Drying: pat the area with a soft cloth—no rubbing. Cream: Apply a tattoo-specific moisturizer; hydration is key. And no scratg or pig at the scabs,- Michael instructed with practiced precision.

  -Perfect. Pass those details to the team and have someone ha for me—I’m not keeping track of all that nonsense,- Billy said dismissively, stretg despite the sharp pain.

  -That’s it for today, kid,- Paul cluded.

  Billy nodded, pulling on his shirt with a wihe sting of the fresh tattoo was relentless, but he didn’t mind. Alessandra arrived moments ter, having spent the past half-hour shopping and strolling through London under Marche’s reendations. The air between her and Billy was charged with a familiarity that needed no words.

  -Merche, I want a nose pierg,- Billy said suddenly.

  The tattooed girl arched an eyebrow.

  -You want it now?- she asked.

  -Of course, how else would I want it?- Billy replied nontly, catg Merche off guard. She studied him briefly—young, bold, and unapologetically reckless.

  -Alright, let’s do this quickly,- she said, leading the way.

  -On the left side, just a tiny stud—like a small diamond,- Billy instructed, his tone firm yet casual.

  Michael looked like he wao protest but ultimately chose silence, opting for peace over frontation.

  …

  -How was the tattoo session? - Alessandra asked ter, eyeing the rexed figure beside her. Merche had mentioned how grueling the ten hours had been, and Alessandra was astonished he had e.

  -Painful as hell, but worth it- Billy said, log eyes with her.

  -Do you have time today for…? -

  A heartbeat.

  A grin.

  -I always have time. Today, I’ll take my time with you, as I do every ce I get- Billy said, his voice dripping with certainty. He leaned in, his warmth envelopihe iy of his presence overwhelming.

  -I ’t believe you- Alessandra whispered.

  -Today, it’ll be slow—everything will be slow- he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. Alessandra melted into his arms, lost in the moment, her love for him radiating from her gaze. For Billy, the world outside didn’t matter; his focus was on making her feel cherished and desired.

  -Slow,- she echoed her voi a whisper.

  They were entangled, lost in each other, ed by the raw magism betweehe driver tried to focus on the road, but it was impossible not to notice the supermodel in the backseat. Alessandra was strikingly beautiful—an unattainable dream to most.

  He cleared his throat, attempting to dispel the tension in the air, but Billy’s rebellious nature was impossible to ignore. His presence was anding, his as unapologetic. Alessandra surrendered eo his touch, ahereal figure captivated by the chaos and passion that was Billy.

  ...