"So how many do you have?" I asked taking his arm into my lap. His skin was warm and smooth, and he didn't have that much hair on his arms like most guys did. But my eyes couldn't concentrate on a single thing. The colors were so bright the designs so vivid. There were just so many of them. All jumbled together starting from his finger tips to forearm, the white sleeve of his cotton t-shirt was covering the ones that trailed up the rest of his arm. He probably had more on his shoulders, back and chest.
"I don't know after ten I just didn't bother to count them anymore"
"After ten" I could feel my eyes widen, I didn't even have one and he had over ten. He gave me a sheepish grin.
"Well after ten there is no point in keeping track they just keep piling up"
"Oh" I tip toed my fingers up his arm to his elbow.
"Yea" he wiggled his fingers.
"So can I count them?" I enlaced my fingers with his; he had new calluses from playing his guitar without a guitar pick. He had written a new song last night.
"Knock yourself out" He closed his eyes and put his other arm behind his head. He began to hum an unfamiliar tune. Probably the tune to his new song.
Slowly I began to count his tattoos.