"Ethella" by @daphnetatum
I swatted at his arm with my working wrist, but he caught my hand before it could hit him. Instead of letting go, he held on, moving so that his fingers landed and locked between my own. My heart attempted a skip before giddiness sputtered out, too drained to care all that much about holding hands with a guy I liked. His hand felt warm and rough like a loaf of bread, calloused from years of fighting. Most of all, his hand felt comfortable; mine fit snugly in it. I only wished we could hold hands under different circumstances, in a different place, in a different world.
“I don’t typically hold hands with random guys, you know,” I said.
“I’m not a random guy.”
“Well, I’ve only known you a few weeks. That’s not very long.”
His fingers twitched. “Do you want me to let go?”
“No,” I murmured.