Concentration was paramount."Fuck. " You sighed as the brush nib of your pen sprawled out lines slightly. To this, you earned a deep throaty laugh from him. You squeezed your hand, which was gently rested against his thigh. You noticed how the warmth of his skin penetrated his jeans and sept into your own palms. It was nice.. comforting in a way. In missions and training it was hard not to view ghost as a robot- an alien to human race. But moments like this reminded you that he was Simon. Your friend, a person. he parted his thighs a little as he shuffled in his seat, his gaze fixed on the wall. You rolled your eyes to yourself at this movement; you had spent months pleading with him to color his tattoos and now he couldn't sit still just for five more minutes? That wasn't, of course, why he moved.. but you didn't know that. How could you know that? You gently lay your palm and forearms across his lap for a moment of stability as you leant in and finished up his final tattoo. With a satisfied sigh, you leaned back on your heels. A small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you admired your work. "Done!" You announced as you pushed up from the ground where you knelt. "You sure about that?" His voice sounded like a taunting manner. You raised an eyebrow, a confused look planted on your face. he pulled his mask up a little with one gloved hand, gesturing to a few tattoos on his face. You bent down quickly to pick up the pens you'd left on the floor. a warm hand landing on his neck, he almost choked at the sensation. A light hand trailed down his neck- assessing the tattoos.a small grunt you mistook as pain (it wasn't…). He couldn't date you, you were too pure. he saw you uncomfortable as you hunched over. his hands flew yo your waist and straddled you down on his lap. "Better? " His gruff voice pierced the deafening silence. He'd had Many in this position before, yet with less clothes."I had a tattoo when I was younger. for a boyfriend" he grabbed the pen, writing his initials in the heart, S.R.