We got him to the guestroom without much commotion. His shirt hung open, the skin beneath raw and red. He kept touching it, brushing over the design like he needed to convince himself it was real.
Every line of that tattoo calmed him down more than anything we'd said. Watching it happen calmed me down as much as he did. He needed that mark. He needed something that told him he still had meaning.
His hand finally fell to his side and he exhaled. It was the first time I'd seen him look close to peaceful.
He sank into the mattress with a groan, arm flung across his face. Shade adjusted the blanket. Neither of them said much, but everything in the room felt settled again.
Cy stretched out across the bed, and smirked without looking at either of us. "You two are gonna be disgusting. I could
