“Would you care to explain what the fuck this is?” I snapped, yanking down my shirt collar. A flicker of annoyance flashed in Fisher’s eyes, but he did not look at me. “Don’t worry. It’ll fade. Probably,” he said in a flat tone. Oh, so he knew what I was pissed about, then? Gods, he was a piece of work. “I did not ask for a tattoo, Fisher,” I hissed. “I definitely didn’t ask for a bird to be permanently inked right above my fucking boob. You need to take it back.” His gaze remained fixed straight ahead. “It doesn’t work like that.”
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!?!?
