Despite The Curves And The Edges

by sctwilightvampwolfgal

Everything begins a little differently, but yet, the love between the two of them tells a story, all its own. *Oneshot collection written for ZenYuki Month 2021, hosted by ZenYuki Festival on Tumblr.*

3. Firsts

The first time, his hand met hers, it wasn't a handhold. It was a grip, a reminder that she can do it! That maybe her red hair wasn't so unlucky after all, maybe she really could determine her own fate, make her own path. And yet, even so, it almost felt more important than handholding might. Though it had been more impulsive, more instinctive than thought filled.

It was a long time later though not too long, if she considered how fast things were and yet how slow they felt. Every day together made it seem as if they'd spent years by each other's side, and yet, the first time that he reaches over, and their hands meet, it is almost surreal.

When Zen's hand comes to rest in hers, Shirayuki feels a leather glove, not worn out, but relatively new, a kind of mixture between soft and rough, an in between. And his fingers are so warm as they come to tangle with her own. It is easy as a breath, and even easier than a kiss, yet it's so beautiful.

Even a moment later, she does not want to pull her hand away from his, she doesn't want them to separate and draw apart, as if it were awkward. It's natural for Shirayuki to hold Zen's hand, even though she well knows that this is in fact their first time holding hands.

And Shirayuki's sure she read somewhere how important hands are, how much power is within them, how sensitive they can be, and yet, maybe that's why when they do end up with more than held hands between them, that she remembers so fondly, the day that Zen kissed the back of her hand. As he'd told her later on, it meant admiration.

He'd let her know that she'd definitely worked hard enough, that it would be okay to take a break, and let everyone handle it for a few hours as she rested, that he appreciated all of her hard work. He'd kissed her hand so tenderly, that she could still feel the tingles long afterward.

And then came the day on the palace steps, and she finally took Zen's hand, warmth and all, still very new glove as well, and kissed the back of his hand, trying to tell him that she admired him, that in a way too, that she loved him. If hands could hold so much meaning, surely bending down and placing a kiss on them could too.