“Your tattoo,” I said without thinking. “Does it mean anything?”
“Don't most tattoos?” he said. “I kind of want something to have significance if it's in permanent ink. On my skin.”
“What does it mean?”
“It's a warning,” he said.
Right.
“Do you have others?” I couldn't see any, despite his short sleeves. “I mean, under your clothes?”
What was wrong with me? Was it inappropriate hour or something?
“One more.” He was trying not to smile. “But I need to know you a little better first.”
―
Mary Watson,
The Wren Hunt