Concentration was a must for this task along with a steady hand.

"Fuck."

You didn't mess up, but the word you mumbled got you a chuckle from Ghost. It was hard to fill in such small lines. You squeezed your hand resting against his thigh. You were a difference compared to Simon's work life. On the field, he was a robot. Here, he was a person. Ghost kept moving. Even little movements made you roll your eyes. After months of begging for you to color in his tattoos and he couldn't even sit still long enough? That wasn't why he moved. After a couple of moments, you used Simon's lap for stability. Satisfied, you step back to admire your work. You shifted back to finish your work. A chill ran down your spine as you felt his gaze on you.

"Done."

You announced, proud of the way the tattoo came out.

"You sure?"

Ghost pulled his mask up around his neck, revealing a few more tattoos. A smirk crossed your face. You moved to his side, one hand on his neck. Even though Ghost tilted his head back, you pushed further. A groan escaped his mouth that you had taken for pain. It wasn't pain at all.

"I'm sorry."

Ghost wouldn't look at you. He kept his gaze on the wall behind you as you worked. He was scared something would slip. He couldn't date someone like you. You were too pure. He could only imagine his disease taking over you. Your breath against his neck. Your chest against his shoulder. It was like torment and he wanted to take you at the very moment. Ghost shifted his gaze up. You were clearly uncomfortable. In one swift moment, Ghost grabbed you and made you straddle his lap.

"Better?"

A small nod was your only response. Your thighs against his was an intimate touch to this setting.

"You have a lot of tattoos."

Ghost didn't say anything.

"I got one once, but it hurt too much for another."

"Show me."

You pulled your pants down slightly. It was a small heart.

"It was for my ex."

Simon didn't wait any longer. He grabbed the pen and wrote something. You moved to look in the mirror.

S.R.