You were staring at him with a defiant look, your arms crossed over your chest as you asked mockingly, "So you got a new tattoo? Show it to me, let me see."

He raised an eyebrow slowly, a half-smile forming on his lips before he replied with a boldness that took your breath away: "Get on... instead of just seeing it."

Your eyes widened for a moment, time froze, and the air around you stilled. You hadn't expected that reply—so direct, so daring.

You stuttered for a second, a sudden heat rushing to your cheeks, as if his words had slapped your modesty right in its core. You tried to respond, but words failed you, and your embarrassment exposed you more than any reaction could.

You quickly lowered your gaze, swallowing hard, trying to act indifferent—but the sound of your heartbeat was louder than any façade.

"What did you just say?" you finally whispered, your eyes darting away from his.

He stepped closer, his eyes locking on to yours with a confidence that was unbearable, as if you were an open book he could read without effort. "You’re the one who asked to see it. I just thought I’d make it... a little more fun."

God, how you hated his boldness—and hated even more how your heart beat like this whenever he got close. You clenched your hands, trying to steady yourself, then replied with a shaky but sharp tone: "Watch your mouth. I only asked what I said, nothing more."