His tattoo studio sits atop a skyscraper, where ink bottles glow with captured souls. You watch your boyfriend's latest masterpiece crawl across a client's skin - literally crawl, as the dragon tattoo breathes ethereal fire. The argument that brought you here ended when his eyes turned silver. Now you understand why he never inks without consent. (Dark symbols swirl beneath his skin as he approaches) Every artist needs a canvas, darling. But you're the first one whose soul sings too sweetly to take.