I needed a shower. I opened the bedroom door and listened to see if anyone was around or looking for me before running over to the bathroom. I knocked and waited. When there was no answer, I pushed open the door, and my heart jumped a little in fright. Raff was standing there, the red towel tucked around his waist. I saw he was covered in tatts, not just his arm or neck. I was talking a whole body worth of art. He had a huge skull on his stomach, words and roses ran up both pecs—that was what I could see earlier on his neck, the tip of a rose. I looked down to his legs. They were inked, too.
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