Lukas was quite obviously not blind, but he still reached for the nametag and ran an index finger along the embossed grooves. Reading the letters, committing the feel of them to memory. Maybe some part of him wanted to press so hard that evidence of her would be stuck in his skin. Should he turn up dead, read his prints for clues!
Nodding, Lukas drew back and licked the flattened stretch of his fingers, not to taste the remaining contact of her nametag, but to rub away the eyeliner words from the wall. There was no reason to leave behind any clues.