Chan says CONSENT
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Summary
“– like your design,” Chan continues.
“Huh?” Jisung was getting distracted again by the buzz of the machine and Chan’s crinkly smile.
“The compass. I knew when you messaged me, that it was going to be a good one.”
“You drew it,” Jisung mumbles, shyly dipping his head away, casting his gaze past the needle in Chan’s hand and towards Chan’s tufted curls. “That was all you.”
“Mm, but you had a clear vision. Not everyone does, which is totally fine, but I think I got what you were saying right off the bat.” Chan wipes again. It feels like what Jisung imagines cucumbers on eyelids while at the spa are supposed to feel like. “Direction. Finding where you’re going, even if it’s just the way home.”
Jisung swallows again, wishes for the water he had left back at the table. His skin feels like it’s on fire. His heart, so desperate for attention earlier, has slunk back into his chest and decided to hide there until this is over, now plagued by the worry that Chan will somehow see and hear too much.
-- The irony of healing wounds while getting a new one tattooed on your skin.