Xavier
Sasha’s fingers moved lightly over the tattoo on my back. She didn’t rush. Her touch was slow, tracing the edges like she was trying to understand it just by feeling.
The moment her fingertips brushed across my skin, a tingling sensation spread through me. My back was always sensitive, and she had found that spot without even trying.
“This is beautiful,” she whispered. Her voice was soft but not completely steady.
I glanced back at her, and her eyes weren’t fully on the tattoo anymore. She was staring past it, trying to pull something from the edge of her memory. Something she couldn’t quite reach.
My heart picked up. That had to mean something. She remembered something. That was good, right? I turned to face her fully, not wanting to miss anything in her expression.
“What’
