<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">She felt a spark of something as he didn't push her away and tell her she was acting silly. She wasn't exactly happy but...she was content that he hadn't told her no. Still, she fidgeted, not sure how to go about answering his question. If she'd been normal, she would have just said she had three tattoos. Instead, she just shrugged her shoulders and didn't answer for a moment. He had said that she could touch it so she reached out tentatively to stroke the red marks on his wrist. Surprisingly, his skin was soft and she found herself moving her finger in slow circles, enjoying the softness of his skin beneath her fingertips. It seemed easier to just tell the truth when it was easy like this. When people weren't expecting anything out of her. But then she realized he was a doctor and that he just wanted answers to his questions. He had already looked at her file, knew the answer to his question and still she found herself saying:<br/><br/>"No. I have no tattoos. I don't have them on my hips or one on my back." She was mesmerized by the red ink in his skin, the way his veins were showing. She had always had an obsession with inking and the way it was so organized and controlled. Her tattoos were even, organized, and symmetrical and beautiful. His was beautiful in a slightly different way. She wanted to kiss it to show how much it meant. Which was a strange thought, but she'd always loved the way art could be permanent. At his next question, she didn't bother to look up, still touching his wrist almost reverently.<br/><br/>"I draw nothing in them. They aren't filled to the last page with how I'm feeling or what I see." Another lie. They always rolled so smoothly off her tongue. </span>