What I should’ve done was bring her to a shop. Had a professional do it. But she’d never agree—and the thought of someone else seeing her in this state is unthinkable. I set out a towel and lay out my supplies, then take the cheap disposable razor and clean the area. She’s already shaved—or waxed, maybe, I don’t know—so my job is easier. I turn on my overhead light and glance up at Aspen’s face. She’s so fucking peaceful. Beautiful. And mine. With a small smile, I get to work.
He's going to fucking tattoo her????
