Jeanine shrugged, a thin haze of the spray paint haloing her curls. "I like the walls. They're a way to play, and discover."
Sean shook his head. "You're just afraid of commitment."
Jeanine laughed. "You're going to say I'm.... Well, of course. I get caught tagging a wall, and it's community service at worst. Or someone comes along and inks over it, and then it's war or collaboration. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference."
"With you, anyway."
Jeanine scrunched her face up in as much of a glare as she could manage while grinning, then sprayed him in the chest with a skewed figure eight. "En garde!"
"The fuck!?" He stumbled back. "Not cool, Jean. This is...."
His muscles tensed, and she could almost hear the struggle in his mind. She liked Sean because he was the least subtle person she knew. He liked her because, well, she wanted him to. Jeanine was sure enough of herself to know he wasn't getting a bad deal in that.
"Fuck. What do you mean, Jeanine?"
"Let me paint you. Ink you. Let me try something out on you, and then, well, maybe I'll do it too."
Jeanine smiled wide. He'd cave, soon.