Class felt like it was dragging on forever, and sitting in the back row wasn’t helping your boredom. Your friend William, slouched in the seat next to you, looked equally unbothered by the monotony.

As your gaze wandered, your eyes landed on his arms, where his tattoos peeked out from under his sleeves—some old, some new ones he must’ve gotten over the summer. An idea sparked, and you couldn’t help but smirk.

“Hey, Will,” you whispered, leaning closer.

He glanced at you lazily, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“Can I color your tattoos?” you asked, grinning.

For a moment, he just stared at you before letting out a soft laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, but the amused glint in his eye told you he wasn’t entirely against the idea.