Page 41 of Heartless
"It is." Shadow sounded pleased. "I screen-printed those shirts years ago. I remember now."
"Oh yeah? I love this shirt. It's my second favorite, next to your hoodie."
Shadow smiled, a rare full one that lit up his whole face. He opened his mouth, then promptly shut it, the smile gone.
"What?"
"Nothing." He averted his gaze.
"You looked like you were gonna say something."
"I was going to ask you a question, but never mind."
"Now you've got me curious." I rolled to my side, propping my head up on my hand. "What is it?"
"Seriously, nothing. Just something dumb that popped into my head."
"Shadowww," I whined, letting my head flop down to the grass. "I want to know. Please?"
"I, um." He sighed and raked a hand back through his hair, looking everywhere but at me. "I was going to ask if I could...draw you."
My mouth fell open. "Drawme?"
"Yeah, but—"
"Shadow, I would love that!"
Finally, he looked at me again. "You would?"
"Yes, are you kidding? I can't imagine anything more flattering." I grinned hard. "My tattoo artist boyfrienddrawingme? I'd love nothing more. Did you bring supplies?"
"I always keep a sketch pad and some pencils on my bike," he said. "You really want me to?"
"Yes, if you do." I rolled to my stomach, kicking my feet up. "I can be flash art in your future tattoo shop."
"I don't know about that," he growled, rising to his feet. “A drawing of you on a wall for everyone to see? I’d rather keep you to myself.”
I giggled to myself while he got what he needed from his bike. While he was one of the most stoic and easygoing of my men, I liked that small bite of possessiveness too.
"How do you want me to pose?" I asked when he settled back on the grass with the sketch pad on his knee.
"I think, like you were before," he said, his gaze on me now studying and inquisitive. "Lying back on your elbows, ankles crossed. Yes, like that. Can you stay there for a few minutes?"
"No problem," I grinned, glancing down at my still-uncovered belly. "Want me to fix the shirt?"
"No, leave it." He glanced up from his paper with a smirk, the pencil in hand already sweeping across the page.
"Where do you want me to look?"
"Keep looking at me like that."
I was hoping he'd say that. He was fascinating to watch. His gaze was technical, focused, but everything about this was extremely intimate.
Sometimes his eyes would meet mine before returning to his page. Other times he glanced at my body, his hand making long, sweeping movements. Sometimes he made small, fast marks, never erasing anything. I could only imagine how he was capturing me and itched to see it when he was done.
This drawing would be a rare glimpse from Shadow's perspective, I realized. The tattoos he did were a reflection of his clients, but this drawing would be a reflection ofhim. I wanted so badly to know how he saw me.
Neither of us spoke. I didn't dare break the magic of watching him work, and it was over far too quickly.
