Sarah quietly cursed the young man sitting before her, and his obvious tattoo fetish.

It made finding the vein in the crook of his arm damn near impossible with all these blue swirly lines all over the shop.

Sarah hated tattoos. Especially this kind, in regulation steely blue ink.

Steely blue like the boy's eyes. God, he could stare.

She prodded half-heartedly at his arm again. The vein did not miraculously emerge. She glanced up, and though his face remained quite neutral, those cold eyes were laughing at her. She was sure of it.

"Uh," she said, "Um…"

She had meant to make some comment to cover her embarrassment. But now his full attention was fixed on her, she could not think of a word to say.

She felt the heat rising in her cheeks.

Please no. Do not start blushing.

Just as one of those silences was about to hatch, one of the truly gruesome ones, in which you die a thousand times, he grinned.

A little too widely and too toothily. She took an involuntary step backwards, think he was about to go for her neck.

"Don't worry about it," he said, rolling down his sleeve.

"Insulin is overrated."