Hands
She stared down at her hand, resting calmly next to his for once.
She traced the thin, spidery lines of her veins beneath her skin with her eyes, looked to his, to see how they were the same – but they weren't. His veins were differently arranged, and instead of hiding beneath the smooth skin on the back of his hand they strained against it. It looked to her like they were fighting to break free of his skin. She felt afraid suddenly that they would, and almost reached out.
Almost.
He twitched, as though he could feel her eyes on his hand, and stood suddenly. For a little while, he just stood there, looking away.
"I have to go." he said finally.
"Ok."
He looked… angry. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but for a moment she thought he was going to say something, but then he just walked away.
She sat in the grass and stared at the back of hand, wondering why she was still such a coward sometimes.