Prompt: Holding hands – write about the first time you held someone’s hand.
Do you remember the first time we hold hands?
Two children under a tree, too naïve to understand the full meaning of the gesture. We were so embarrassed. Your cheeks were a soft pink and I was constantly looking away. Still, our fingers were tangled. It was neither perfect nor nice. My palms were sweaty because I was anxious and your fingers held mine too tight.
I tried to catch a glance at our hands and you saw me. Then, you attempted a half-smile. I bit my lip and looked away fast. Your palm over mine seemed natural, normal as if it belonged there. Despite the tense atmosphere, none of us retracted. We stood there, holding hands, although we were obviously newbies.
Your thumb brushed my skin for a split of a second, and my heart pounded so hard that I was afraid you could hear it. I didn’t ever though a movement so swift could affect me that much. I squeezed your hand and dared to directly eye you. Your face was already turned to me. It was like you’d been waiting for this.
You were nervous – I could read in your features. I watched you from under the lashed and you swallowed hard. We simultaneously raised our hands. Flesh to flesh… there was this feeling of being comfortable, after all.
“We can totally do this,” you told me.
I didn’t respond, only nodded. But I prayed in my mind that you were right.