I do my best not to squirm as Storm continues. “Zoey, I swear your skin is a dream to tattoo.” I mumble yes because right now, all I want is for him is to hurry the hell up. “Just a few more minutes,” Storm says as he continues working on my calf. “Who would have thought lettering hurts more than an actual design?” I groan in even more pain. “Keep breathing because if you faint, I will make fun of you.” I don’t say anything to him and focus on several paintings on the wall next to me. Storm has more talent in his pinkie than I do in my entire body. I wish I could paint those strong lines and contrast them with such amazing shading and coloring. I think about what Hector said the other night when I showed him my work. I didn’t want to do it, but with the hopeful look in his eyes, I couldn’t say no. I still don’t know why. There’s something about those big brown eyes, and it makes me forget everything, even my common sense. Is that normal? It can’t be. What person in their right mind forgets everything when a guy, and an overbearing guy at that, simply looks at you?
What do You think about Hector (Season One: The Ninth Inning #3)?
