All the Pretty Lies by M. Leighton Page B

the
fact that I’m such a mess. What a perfect opportunity this would be
otherwise. I clear my throat and put all my focus into what I’m
about to draw on Hemi.
    When the pen first touches his skin, it skips
along. I rub the tip over my palm to loosen it up before getting it
back into position. The first few strokes feel odd. I’ve never
drawn on someone else’s skin before. In fact, I’ve never even
written on my own skin. But it gets easier the more I get
into it.
    Before long, I’m gliding over skin and
skimming over bone as I draw letters and swirls. I get so absorbed
in it, I find myself going back to do some shading and adding some
personal little touches to it.
    I have no idea how long I’ve been at it when
I finish, but I look down at Hemi and he’s just watching me.
Quietly. Intently.
    “All done.”
    “You really do get lost in your art,
don’t you?”
    I smile to hide my embarrassment. “Yeah, I
kinda do.”
    “We’ve got a lot in common.”
    I nod. I don’t know what to say to that. It
makes me happy to hear him admit it, though.
    Hemi’s eyes search mine. In them, I usually
see either heat or a teasing light, but right now neither is the
case. They seem…troubled. Like he’s conflicted about something. I
wonder if he doesn’t want to have so much in common with
someone else. I wonder if he doesn’t want to let someone in,
let someone get close.
    Without another word, Hemi moves away from me
and slides off the bed to saunter into the bathroom. With the door
open, I can see him examining my work in the mirror. He runs his
fingers over some of the details, but says nothing. And his eyes,
his eyes are still guarded. I get more anxious by the second.
    Finally he returns to the main room. “This is
good, Sloane. Really good.”
    I exhale and give him a shy smile. “Thank
you.”
    “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble
learning to tattoo.”
    “Really?”
    “No trouble at all.”
    I sit up in bed, gathering courage for what
I’m about to ask. It will require more of a commitment from Hemi
and I’m not sure he’ll agree to it. Saying he’ll teach me to tattoo
is different than being, like, a preceptor.
    “Here’s the thing. I’m in my senior year at
UGA and not only do I have Advanced Figure Drawing and Anatomy this
semester, but I also have a drawing elective that can contain a
practical aspect if I get it cleared through my professor. Would
you, um, would you be willing to be my preceptor? I could use my
experiences with you as drawing and anatomy in a practical sense.
From what some of the others in my classes are doing, I think this
would be acceptable, and it would kill two birds with one
stone.”
    Hemi watches me closely. I can see that his
mind is whirling behind his eyes and it makes me tense as I
wait.
    “I think I could do that. We could start you
out doing some original sketches then work you up to doing
stencils. Then, eventually, to using the gun on skin.”
    I’m thrilled for several reasons, not the
least of which is the amount of time this means I’ll get to spend
with Hemi.
    “That would be fantastic! And I really
appreciate it.”
    He gives me a tight smile as he absently runs
his fingers over the words that I drew on his side. “My pleasure.”
He holds my gaze for a few more seconds before he looks away,
almost uncomfortably. “I’m gonna run out and get us some supplies.
Toothbrush, toothpaste, things like that. Do you need
anything?”
    I don’t know why, but I get the feeling he’s
anxious to get away from me.
    “No, I’ll be fine until we get home tomorrow.
Toothbrush and toothpaste is plenty.”
    Hemi nods. “I’m gonna put my clothes back on
and then I’ll hit the road.”
    I nod as well and he disappears back into the
bathroom, closing the door behind him. When he reemerges, he holds
up his phone. “What’s your number? I’ll text you from my phone so
you can call if you need anything?”
    I think it’s an odd request since he’s