A/N: Starry, I've missed a billion birthdays of yours, a bunch of Christmases, and it's time for a make-up of all that since I counted how much beautiful art you drew for me. Please enjoy all of these!
Prompt: Holding Hands!
Wheatley hadn't expected it when Chell did it for the first time.
They were just walking home! There was nothing special about the moment she took his hand, nothing that made it more intimate, more important than any other moment.
They were just strolling down the sidewalk, Chell keeping up a brisk pace that she always had. Wheatley easily kept with her, his legs reaching further than hers. Sometimes, when she would make a sudden turn, he would keep going and almost miss it, or when something caught her eye in a store window, he would look too.
That was how it almost always went. Once again, there was nothing special in the windows, no sudden turns where she needed to pull him down a street to get home and not get lost.
And Chell still took his hand in hers, locking fingers.
There was her hand, firmly around his own. His hands were warm, at a constant temperature due to every mechanism that was running in his body all at once. Chell's were cold, despite the fact she was wearing gloves on the brisk day. She showed no signs of fatigue or wear… yet she was still holding his hand.
"Sweetheart, are you okay? Do you need to stop? Is there something you need, because I'll carry you to a bench or find a water fountain, just don't go on me-"
She stopped him with a finger on his lips, which caused him to sputter in protest, before stopping completely and looking right into her beautiful eyes and to her small smile.
Then, she started walking again, grip on his hand tightening a little bit more. Instead of talking, he just returned the motion, feeling a bit better.
Still wasn't sure if she was okay, but he would ask when they got home.
