Her soul called to me as I opened the coffee shop door. She sat in the same spot as always. Laptop open. Sparkling smile. Beautiful face. Only now did I realize she's always worn long sleeves.
"Why?" I asked, standing beside her chair. Not hey, hello, how are you.
Her smile faltered. "Uh, I missed you yesterday."
"Please answer my question." The doubts nagged at me like a thousand needles stabbing at my heart.
"Fine," she said, hands up in surrender. "Why what?"
"The sleeves. All the time. No matter how it feels outside. Long. Why?"
Her eyes narrowed, smile completely gone. A fierce blush flooded her cheeks. "I - well - I just like long sleeves is all."
"Can I see them? Your arms, I mean." I had to know what Drakar meant. What truth will her arms bare?
Sweat beaded her forehead. She sucked her bottom lip in. Nervous. What is it? With trembling fingers, she slowly slid her sleeves up. "Tattoos," she said. "Most people tend to judge me because they don't understand them."
I knew that ink work alright. The marks of a Cleanser. My heart belonged to my enemy.
Now that he's discovered the truth, what will Basil do?