Page 37 of Undisputed Chaos
@IslaBelleflower
What if I'm ready now?
@AdrianCatalyst
You're not. But you will be. And when you are, I'll be waiting to catch you.
I hugged my phone to my chest, paint-stained fingers leaving smudges on the case.
This didn't feel like the games Noah had played, the hot-and-cold treatment that had left me constantly guessing.
This felt like... preparation. Adrian was giving me time to adjust, to accept what was happening between us before we took the next step.
@AdrianCatalyst
Dream of me tonight, angel. Dream of my hands on you, teaching you all the things you've been too afraid to want.
The days flowed into a rhythm between us, an intimate dance of tasks and rewards that sent my heart racing each time a notification appeared.
This morning was no different. I'd barely finished my coffee when my phone chimed.
I nearly dropped my mug when I opened it.
Three photos, each more devastating than the last. Close-ups of his body that made me gasp.
His chest, broad and powerful, was covered in intricate tattoos that flowed across muscle like dark rivers over stone.
His abs were rigid and defined, ink disappearing beneath the waistband of his sweats.
His biceps, massive and veined, flexed slightly as he held the camera.
@AdrianCatalyst
Morning, angel. Thought you might need some inspiration today.
I stared at the images, heat flushing my cheeks as I took in every detail of the artwork on his skin.
Chains coiled around his collarbones, a constellation of ink mapped across his left pectoral, and various symbols and patterns created a tapestry that told stories I desperately wanted to hear.
@AdrianCatalyst
Choose one tattoo. Any one that catches your eye. Draw it on your wrist, and wear it to brunch with your friends tomorrow.
Let's see if you're brave enough to carry a piece of me in public.
I froze, my thumb hovering over the screen. How did he know I had brunch plans? I hadn't mentioned it to him or even posted about it anywhere. The girls and I had only finalized our plans via text last night.
The question sent a shiver down my spine that definitely wasn't fear.
I scrolled back to his photos, studying the tattoos more carefully. Near his collarbone was a small, intricate design—a knife wrapped in delicate chains.
Despite how different it was from anything I would typically choose, something about it called to me.
I spent nearly an hour recreating the design on my wrist, using the finest black pen I owned, adding shading and detail until it looked almost real against my pale skin.
When I finished, I took a photo and sent it to him without hesitation.
@AdrianCatalyst
