[It's not the mirroring of the hand-holding, so obviously affectionate now that he sees her do it, that makes his stomach--or whatever--flip stumblingly inside him. It's the way she handles him like he's something valuable and dear.
No one is ever so careful with him.
He turns his hand to hold her fingers in his palm, then closes his hand gently around hers. His voice is hushed and shorn completely of any of his usual fronting.]
no subject
No one is ever so careful with him.
He turns his hand to hold her fingers in his palm, then closes his hand gently around hers. His voice is hushed and shorn completely of any of his usual fronting.]
I let someone go off alone, once, and he died.