His. His marks, his fingerprints. They're on her hips and they're there permanently. His whole starts to go a little bright and lightheaded as he thinks about the fact that if she ever left him, it would be one of those tattoos that told her next boyfriend about him. He slides down to his knees so he can inspect them closer, tracing outside the angry red area.

Here, staring up at her, he gives her a searching look. "Actually mine?"