She stared, fixed to the monitor, the soft glow of the screen illuminating her face despite the light of the room. Her hands moving the mouse, switching back and forth between browser tabs. She was browsing through pictures of tattoos.
Stopping for a brief moment, she tilted her head ever so slightly. Her thick hair falling to one side of her face, partially obscuring it my sight. Tossing her head back, she flips her hair back into place as unconsciously as it fell down. In spite of that, it doesn’t discount the subtle grace that she would deny repeatedly whenever mentioned.
Still transfixed upon the image, she began outlining the picture on paper. Not a direct copy, nor is it a new creation, but an amalgamation of the two. She loved the long curved lines of the image and she was determined to have them on her skin when the time came. But for now, she would pick her choices and highlight them before deciding.
With that, she flexed and arched her partially uncovered back, neither smooth nor flawless, but uniquely petite all the same. Nimbly she ran her fingers around her shoulder as if imagining how it would feel like for the image to be imprinted onto her skin. All the while transfixed upon the image. All the while bringing her drawn creation to life.
It was then she stopped and looked at me, propped beside her table, as if just realizing I was there. I couldn’t help but to shake myself from my thoughts that very moment. The image of her in my mind set aside for later contemplation. She moved to cover herself a little bit more.
“What are you looking at?” She asked quizzically.
“Nothing at all.”
I am playing a very dangerous game.