His hand is large, warm.

She forgets to read at first. Her attention is fixated on the sight of their fingers threaded together, resting between them. The feeling that swells in her chest and sinks into her stomach is too big and too intense to describe, and she barely manages to notice when he is through to turn the page.

It doesn't help when his thumb begins to absently rub hers as he reads.

It's all too much.

With a sigh, she leans her head on his shoulder, getting comfortable. She knows the feeling won't go away, so she reads.