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Amelia was sleeping on her belly, her arms wrapped around her pillow. It was unusual for him to wake first.
He took the opportunity to admire the art on her back. He wanted to run his fingers over it, but didn't want the terrified startle into wakefulness it would bring. The tattoo was impressive. It started mid thigh on one leg, snaked up her hip, across the small of her back and up over her other shoulder. It was beautifully done.
"I can hear you looking at me." She mumbled into her pillow.
"And what does that sound like?"
She smiled sleepily, "Your breath hitches when you want to touch me."
"I didn't want to wake you."
She smiled again and adjusted her grip on her pillow.
This was when he noticed something. There was one more flower. It was tiny and purple rather than black and white like the others. It was on the inside of her arm, away from the other tattoos. He reached out and drew a careful finger over it. "This one is different."
Amelia sighed. "Yeah. That one is different."
He waited to see if she was going to explain.
"The others are all the floral emblems of places I have lived and worked. That one is to remember the Treacle Mine Road Massacre. On May 25th, you wear lilac to remember. If you were there."
"There was a massacre? Which side were you on?"
Amelia snorted a little. "The side of Truth, justice, freedom, reasonably priced love and a hard boiled egg."
He frowned. "You aren't making any sense. Why don't you go back to sleep?"
So she did.