"A few," he said through a cloud of smoke which he exhaled in her face so she would take it from his mouth. Meanwhile he kept his hands busy fingering shapes and designs in her skin, bringing in different colors now. He wasn't delicate, there was a madness to his style, the strokes were abrupt, fluid, enough to entice her skin in a million goosebumps. Dead bodies didn't do this. He was intrigued.