‘Weren’t you the one who said you see girls the same way we see party dresses, only to be used once?’ ‘Clearly I view you a little differently.’ He reached for one of her errant curls and wound it around one tattooed finger, the black rose on the back of his hand spinning until it turned red beneath the ruby starlight. With every turn he drew her closer. He made it easy to ignore her achy legs and her dying heart.
wdym a little differently hoe. but a rose tattoo?? damn
