The prompt is 'Inch' and this is J/E, of course. ;)
Often, in those tumultuous days, Elizabeth had glimpsed ink beneath the flutter of his shirt. The tricksy breeze would catch its edges, whispering, Look, do you see? Do you understand now?
But she’d refused to look, refused to understand why this adept conjuror of language had choosen to speak his truth in the indelible silence of ink and blood.
She knew him better now, understood the stillness between his words, and delighted in the eloquence of that single inch of ink above his heart; a swan in flight, soaring toward the heavens.
When she kissed him there, they soared together.