The two of you were at his tattoo parlor shop, whilst Chris Brown’s music reverberated through the soundproof room. He neared you from behind as he towered over your frame, needing to bend down to your level a little before asking,

“Hey. You got any ideas for my new tat? Client wanted a freestyle on his arm sleeve.” His deep, rough and husky voice gently vibrated through your ear, while he was casually handing his phone, waiting for your answer as he cocked one of his eyebrows up.