It had started out with letting them draw on his skin. They’d always been somewhat of an artist, and Zaeed had always enjoyed their art. So he didn’t mind sitting still now and then as they drew over his hands and fingers. Soon it began to spread up his arm, and almost every day, he’d have some faux sleeve of tattoos. He liked it. So much so that he decided to let them actually tattoo him. He’d still let them draw on it, of course, but he liked the idea of getting something more permanent.

He sat still now, arm laid out as they drew over his arm. He had a cigar pinched between his fingers, watching them with the calmness he usually felt when they drew on him. It was therapeutic for the both of them, it seemed.

“You mess up and I’ll put a bullet in you,” he grunted calmly, taking a drag. It was a false promise, besides the fact that they’d never messed up before.