Reed was the one to answer. He began to say "The beach—"

Stone finished his sentence "Reed likes surfing as well."

I nodded my head and closed my eyes after suddenly feeling a bit woozy. Stone picked up on my sudden lack of energy because he started to stroke my face a little quicker.

I forced my eyes open to see his ones. They looked soft staring down at me.

He tried to distract me by asking "Why a dragon?"

Grinning lazily, I managed a wink at him "I will tell you mine if you show me yours."

"I will get it out of you eventually, Medusa"

A quick shoot of pain stopped me from rolling my eyes.

Stone just sat there, and he looked so stressed and on edge.

"What are you thinking about, Lurch?"

"I am thinking that this is the perfect opening sentence to my essay about you. Drizella Miller does not have a high pain tolerance."

Laughing, I replied “It would be a good start. You just need a few more weird facts about me because I doubt you could write good things about me. Definitely not five hundred words worth."

In the corner of my eye, Reed moved away somewhere. I did not bother to see where because I was more interested in listening to what Stone had to say.

The giant leaned down nearer and squeezed my hand tighter "I would struggle to find something bad to write about you. Five hundred words to describe you is impossible. Five million is also not manageable. I do not think there is words out there that really capture you. You are simply everything. Nothing is as extraordinary as you."

I turned to the tattooist and questioned "Does the ink make you hallucinate?"

"No. It doesn't." Reed answered "Stone wants you to stop and I think you should too. You don't look well."

Widening my eyes, I shouted "No! I want my dragon tattoo. I have already come this far."

Stone shook his head and grumbled out roughly "Ella—"

I cut him off by shushing him "I will be fine. Just don't let go of my hand."

He never let go of my hand.

The tattooist just tutted "You have got yourself a stubborn girl there."

The pressure on my hand increased as the deep voice spoke again "Yes. I do."

I felt my eyelids grow heavier and I listened as the buzzing of the tattoo needle became background noise.

My face rested against the chair as I stared at the beautifully dark ethereal face that was made up of rough and harsh lines.

"Stone?" I whispered to him.

He hummed a strained noise that was a grumble of disapproval that I was still getting tattooed.

"Move closer." I demanded of him with a sweet smile on my lips "I need to whisper something into your ear."