<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">His touch was unexpected, but her eyes had shut for the briefest moments involuntarily. It had felt nice and soon his hand was still and she found that she couldn't really draw in enough breath. It was so odd and yet felt like an echo. It felt like that first time she had slept with her ex. The start up, that is. It hadn't made sense then and it didn't make sense now. Was it unintentional that he drawing out her darker side? She pushed it back mentally, feeling an extra shove that wasn't necessarily her own. It made her even more wary and her headache became a little more prevalent. But the fascination and curiosity was overwhelming. Her body was tense and it was visibly only in her fingers as they continued to fiddle with her shirt hem until he pointed to his chest that his tattoos were there. There was something dark lingering beneath the surface of his gaze that would sweep her up if she wasn't careful. She wondered if she wanted to be careful at all. <em>Aishling.</em> A voice growled, anger and a little bit of hurt seemed to be mixed into the sound of her name. But where was the harm? He had more art. More beautiful permanent art. <br/><br/>"Nine...nine more..." She whispered, mesmerized. He had ten tattoos. A completely even number. She liked her odd numbers because they were easier to keep symmetrical, but ten was a good number as well. She heard his words and looked up at his face, indecision flickering across her blue irises before she bit her lip and looked away. Could she really touch them? As he touched her fingers and told her not to be nervous, she found herself tensing up further. Could she really see them and touch them? She wanted to know. She wanted to see. She felt a warning go off in her head, but she didn't care. He had a wonderfully symmetrical number of tattoos and she demanded she let herself see them. But was this suppose to be a trick to help her? Or something? She kept questioning herself as her fingers found the first button on his shirt and popped it open and soon found herself popping all of them off in slow but greedy succession. Her breath became more shallow and soft as her eyes focused on the task at hand. As the letters became revealed, she found herself murmuring softly, the sound like that of a lover.<br/><br/>"Beautiful..."</span>