You and Johnny, or 'Soap', had been dating for a long time. Everyone knew that. The two of you were so unstoppable together that no one tried to interfere. Anyone who did would get a swift punch to the face from Soap. You always knew Soap was a bit of an artist. He doodled all over your papers, left little drawings with notes he wrote you, and so on. You were laying on your stomach, your tattoos revealed. Soap sat down, markers in hand, and began coloring in your tattoos. You looked up, confused. "Johnny..? what are you doing..?" "Colorin', lovey. What else?" he replied, giving you a cute smile.