Tom felt the ink sip in like a customized brand of drug. Just for him. It was euphoric. It was infused with darkness and deception. With freshly plucked pain and disappointment. He could just stay like this forever, plugged-in at this sensation like an intravenous lifeline. He knew he was part of that universe. He had been taking and taking from her too, after all. He had tainted her, and her veil of goodness had fallen, pooling around her like black silk. That was the ultimate price of carrying him around. Irrational ire. The side effects of exposure to darkness.