{GIANNA}
Little by little, my breathing slows, and the fire beneath my skin dims to a warm, lazy glow. I stay like this for a while, nestled against him, tracing absent patterns over the inked flesh of Michael's chest as the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulls me into contentment. "Do all your tattoos have some special meaning, or do you just like looking badass?"
His hand rubs up my spine, the other settling into my hair, idly playing with the strands. "Some do, others don't."
I shift slightly to glance up at him. His face is relaxed, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction, and a mop of dirty blond hair falls over his brows. I brush it back, then let my fingers drift to the dark ink lining the side of his scalp. "What about these?"
"They're lines and bits of code from StarQuest, the video game I created that went viral and made HartSphere global."
