Fiction 62

“Those hands…” She thought. “They had magic in them.” She could almost see him smile smugly, and say “I told you so!”

She had never seen hands like his. Never felt hands liked his on hers. The way he would draw circles on her thumb with his fingers, the way they would sometimes grow cold under hers. She loved the way she could cajole them back to being warm. They were rough, yet soft. They held onto her hands with such care it made her heart jump with joy. They told her so much more than his lips could ever have. And that is all she ever needed.


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