[Pearl watches him observe her tattoo, his gloved hands running over he pale skin and the markings. This felt like more than a glance at the design. Inspected. The Gem steels herself from pulling her hand away completely, until he lets go on his own accord.
She pulls her hand back, rubbing at the back of it with her other hand, accompanying a weak smile offered to the butler.]
Oh? Do you have a tattoo of your own?
[He's the last person she'd expect to have a tattoo.]
no subject
She pulls her hand back, rubbing at the back of it with her other hand, accompanying a weak smile offered to the butler.]
Oh? Do you have a tattoo of your own?
[He's the last person she'd expect to have a tattoo.]