Heaven (3)

“But… the ink isn’t coming out very well.”

His gaze fell on my white thighs and abdomen.

“I’ll have to test it.”

The sharp nib scraped down the tender flesh on the inside of my thigh.

The stinging pain and the sensation of cold ink.

Kaelan drew lines across my flesh and scribbled words.

I became paper.

Paper he could write on and discard at will.

Yet the thought of his handwriting remaining on my body excited me.

My father had to hear that sound from right beside me—the sound of a nib indifferently scraping his daughter’s flesh...