Disclaimer: Okay, you caught me! I don't actually own this other than the plot. The fantastic characters and setting all belong to the genius that is Kubo Tite.
Anyways, this just popped into my head randomly a few hours ago while reading so it's kind of rough because it was rushed. I feared it would slip out again. Hope you like it!
Hands
He often wondered what it was that drew him to her; what made her such a desire that he was so immediately starved for her presence, even when she'd only just left the room.
Perhaps the problem lay with her hands. Those exceedingly delicate hands that tapered out into slender fingers which seemed more elegant than his imagination could have ever come up with on its own.
Her nails fit in with their artful counter-parts. They were unadorned by colors or those little stick-on jewels that many girls seemed to favor, simply adding to their grace.
Despite the ruff-and-tumble times they faced, he could always count on the ten, perfect little surfaces to be polished and carefully shaped. She would never deign to bite on them either. It would be far too unrefined a habit and, undoubtedly, she'd see it as a sign of weakness to be so addicted to an action.
But that wasn't all. Not by a long shot it would seem. Her palms and the pads of her fingertips held him captive too. The rare times that they had rested unabashedly across his bare skin never failed to send electrifying tremors straight to his already bursting heart.
The back of her hand was no less amusing to him. How she managed to keep it so unmarred by scaring in contrast to his own was a mystery. She'd been at the job far longer than him.
None of that could draw his attention away from the big picture though. He hands were so small and fragile looking that he often found himself longing to trap her gentle appendages between his own and just hold on until all of the storms had blown over.
She'd never allow that though. Her hands were capable of such strength and will that she rarely let herself indulge in the safety of others when she was still able to stand by herself. Sometimes, he wished she saw that she didn't always need to face the torrents alone.
No matter how he fell asleep the night before, he would invariably wake up to find himself facing his closet in profound expectation. And as soon as he saw her hand appear to slide open the door, he realized that it didn't matter what her hand looked like, so long as it was her's that blessed his vision.
There you have it, my first ever published work, even if it is just a drabble. I would love to get reviews, especially because I'm considering continuing on with each chapter capable of being a oneshot, but still have them all able to tie together in the end. Just tell me what you think because the ideas are coming on strong.