The late afternoon sun poured through the cracked blinds of Eddie’s trailer, turning the living room into stripes of gold and shadow. The smell of old records, Sharpies, and the faint burn of his incense filled the air. You sat cross-legged on the couch, your bare legs stretched out across Eddie’s lap, the ink on your skin catching the light.

He twirled a red marker between his fingers, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You know,” he said, tapping the tip of the marker against your calf, “I still can’t believe you let me do this. Most people would kill me if I even looked at their tattoos, let alone went to town with Crayola.”

You smirked. “Maybe I just like living dangerously.”

Eddie laughed — that low, unfiltered sound that always came from deep in his chest. “Dangerously? Sweetheart, the most dangerous thing happening right now is me accidentally giving you a permanent pink stain.”

He leaned forward, the chain around his neck swinging as he started tracing color into the roses along your thigh. His touch was light, careful, reverent even. Every so often he’d hum under his breath — Metallica, maybe — pausing only to blow gently across your skin when the marker started to smear.

You tried not to stare at him. Tried not to think about how soft his curls looked in the sunlight or how his concentration always came with a tongue between his teeth.

“Y’know,” he said finally, not looking up, “I think this one’s my favorite. The way the lines curve? It’s like it wants to be colored in.”

You swallowed a smile. “Good thing I only get the outlines then.”

Eddie froze. “Wait— what?”

You shrugged, pretending it was no big deal. “I mean… I like the look, sure. But mostly? You just seem to have more fun this way.”

He blinked at you, marker still in hand, expression softening from surprise to something you couldn’t quite name. The corners of his mouth twitched into a grin — slower this time, more tender.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, shaking his head. “You’re too damn much.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, watching the way his thumb brushed against your ankle. “But you like me that way.”

Eddie chuckled, leaning back just enough to meet your eyes — that same grin breaking wide again. “You have no idea.”