After a moment, he looked down again, studying the graceful lines. Taras reached out, hesitant at first, then he brushed his fingertips across the arc of one tattooed eye, following its curve, keeping his touch careful, and light. The skin was lightly ridged, like a scar.
"It healed perfect," he murmured.
He paused, letting his hand come to rest against Isaev's chest. He could feel Lasha's pulse beating against his thumb.
no subject
"All right."
After a moment, he looked down again, studying the graceful lines. Taras reached out, hesitant at first, then he brushed his fingertips across the arc of one tattooed eye, following its curve, keeping his touch careful, and light. The skin was lightly ridged, like a scar.
"It healed perfect," he murmured.
He paused, letting his hand come to rest against Isaev's chest. He could feel Lasha's pulse beating against his thumb.
"Feels good."
Taras kept his eyes lowered, fixed on the tattoo.
"Fits your chest like you were born with it."