"What's wrong?" she asks, and I can almost feel her brows knitting with slight concern. "You look odd."
I feel her chin resting against my shoulder, her arms round my waist, her breasts pressing lightly against my back. And then, without thinking, I take her small, warm hands in mine. At first she stiffens at this new kind of touch, but she lets our fingers interlace all the same.
"Nothing's wrong," I say. "It's just... I'm not used to people caring about me."
-Keeping Things Whole
Art, characters, writing (c) me