A/N – I don't own, at all. I wish I did, but I don't.
Here's a little thing that a pic of two hands, put in my head.
Hope y'all like it.
Holding Hands.
You didn't understand why it made your heart feel like it was going to beat right out of your chest.
It's not like it was anything obvious, and you two had done obvious, oh, how you had done obvious. You were pretty certain that subtle was not in your lover's vocabulary.
The thing is this wasn't scent marking.
This wasn't claiming a mate.
This wasn't animalistic.
This wasn't some over the top display of pillaging someone's mouth to prove that they were owned, and that anyone watching should know that.
This was not a large list of things, things that you could go on for hours reminiscing about, sometimes frowning, but often times grinning.
No, this was none of those, this was gentle.
This was personal.
This was human.
This was the intersection of private and public.
This was Derek, reaching out, wrapping his fingers in yours, and holding your hand.
This was Derek, showing everyone and anyone who cared to look that you were united, you were connected, you were his, and he was yours.
This was right, this was good, this was love.