Short 500 word ficlet inspired by a random thing. I was at a Clay Aiken concert recently and during one of the songs, my eyes wandered to his hands...and I found I couldn't take my eyes off of them. Every single little movement he did made me melt inside. (I even had to mention it to my friend in the middle of the concert in the form of a breathy "his hands...".) They're amazing. So anyway...reading time...
She found that she couldn't breathe; her eyes were fixated on the reason.
He was writing his Potions essay across from her, thoughtfully biting his lip as he scrawled his way through it. But everything was blocked out to her, except for one little...distracting...thing...
His fingers curled around his quill, holding it lightly in his right hand. His forefinger was moving slowly, unconsciously, up and down hitting his thumb. Absorbed in his thoughts, his hand began to slowly - very slowly – release his grip on the object. It slid a couple inches before his hand clamped back down on the quill and he put it back down to write.
His left hand was sitting closer to her and her gaze shifted down to it before she could stop herself. Each of his fingers were slightly curved, even his thumb, as it rested on the table. The left wasn't moving like his right but once in awhile, a twitch appeared.
He suddenly brought his right hand down and dropped the quill on the parchment he was writing on. She watched as he brought his hands together and interlaced them, stretching the fingers out from the writing he was doing.
It was then that she realized she hadn't blinked for at least a minute. Her eyes watered annoyingly. Finally blinking, but still not taking her eyes off him, she leaned forward and continued to stare.
His right hand went down and picked up the quill again, twirling it to the right place before setting it down on the parchment to finish. She realized he changed the position of his fingers so that the quill wasn't resting against his third finger, instead, he held it with the tips of his fingers, ever so lightly as he always did.
Moving quickly, he lifted his left hand, curling it into a semi-fist, and he rested his head against the hand, tilting slightly. As if deciding it didn't feel right, he moved after a couple seconds, instead taking the hand and running it through his unruly hair. It went through easily, resting to a stop back on the table right next to her.
He didn't move for some time. An occasional twitch and flex of the fingers but that was it. She still watched him, his hands, with widened eyes.
Watching his hands, she missed his little secretive smirk.
Was it just her imagination or was his left hand slowly inching his way over toward her way? She blinked but still couldn't tell if she was just hallucinating or not. She wasn't. Suddenly, she felt something warm enclose over her hand and blinked again to see his hand over her's, and his fingers making their way to interlace with her's.
Without a single word, he looked over at her briefly, and ran his thumb over her's, slowly and teasingly, sending shivers down her spine. Lily immediately looked down at the table, a smile playing across her face, reveling in his touch. James also smiled softly and wondered if she felt the same sparks he did when they touched.
"Baby, there's nothing in this world that can ever do what the touch of your hands can do, it's like nothing I ever knew."
I actually think he was singing that song when I realized how amazing his hands were.
Review?