His Sin
he questions, tilting his head.
My eyes linger down to the tattoos on his neck. I’m almost convinced it’s not just a trick of the light that makes them look like they are moving ever-so slowly, like they have a life of their own. They stop at his jawline, curling and twisting around in an incoherent pattern, tinted with the most subtle shade of crimson. It officially creeps me out.
"No, I don't."
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