Her expression had changed, and Alfred was certain it was his fault and not some spontaneous, uncharacteristic burst of shame. He shook his head, trying to clear the air. He hadn't invited her over so that he could infect her with his moodiness, after all. He'd been looking for a distraction, and she was certainly providing him with that. He needed to leave all of these morose thoughts behind and just — just what? He wasn't sure.

"No, I do want to see them," he insisted, straightening up a bit. "I'm sorry. It's just — you know. Everything," he explained vaguely, shifting to a slightly more comfortable sitting position on the bed. "Of course I want to see them. You could... show me all of them, if you want to," he added, glancing at the spot where one of the vine tattoos disappeared into the top of her corset. She'd said they went all the way down to her naval. He didn't want to pressure her into anything, of course, but — well, if he'd been looking for a distraction, he really couldn't have asked for a better one.

"You don't remember getting them? Even in that — you know, that sort of half-remembering way?" he asked, as he let his eyes wander over what were visible of her tattoos from here.