28 Minutes

6:11

My eyes make contact with his skin, hungry again to watch his every move. I don't want to miss a single move. Long, slender fingers untangle the buttons of the sleeves of his white blouse. Teasingly, his hand slides up his wrist and towards his elbow.

The top of his arm is tanned and a sun-kissed golden color while the inside of his arm is paler in comparison. I can see the tints of freckles sprinkled across his skin. The black ink swirls up into detailed pictures all the way up to his elbows where his sleeve rests.

"You're tattooed," I breathe. My eyes scan the pictures decorating his skin. An anchor, a mermaid, a rose, a lock and key, and a half-legible word that looks like a name. The rose is the obvious centerpiece of his arm. The work is done beautifully.

"Yeah, I quite like all of them. The rose is probably my favorite. Although, I do quite like my moth tattoo," Harry hums. More tattoos. The idea of Harry having more tattoos under his shirt sends a welcomed shiver down my spine. I would give anything to examine the art Harry has hidden.

"I have some too, but most of mine are stupid," I admit. I watch as Harry's Adam's apple jumps in his throat. Something in the man's eyes has shifted. He seems interested, curious, and with a hunger of his own.

"Well, let's see then."

I purse my lips as my heart hammers in my chest. I know that there's nothing nervous about showing him my tattoos and nothing intimate about it either. Most of my tattoos are on my arms and have no meaning behind them at all and, yet, I still can't calm myself down. The feeling spread throughout my entire body and my hands shake as I take out my cuff links and move the sleeve up my arm to show Harry a peak of my art.

My eyes flick back up towards Harry as he lets out a quiet, "Beautiful."