Hands
Hands. Rough, calloused, years of hard work shown on the dirty skin. Scars marking deep, a darker pink colour than his skin. He felt hers, soft and smooth, a beautiful olive tone. He felt the tingles rush up his arm as her thumb brushed the back of his hand with gentle strokes. He stole a glace at her. The black hair tied back, brown eyes watching the puffy white clouds float by on a summers day. He had taken her for a walk. They ended up sitting outside on a bench not to far from her house. A small smile played on her lips as she caught him watching her. He turned away quickly.
"You're so soft." He whispered gently into her ear after awhile. The light shade of pink dusted her cheeks."Tiny too." He picked up the hand he had been holding, bringing it closer to his face. He noticed a small scar on the knuckle. "How did you get this, love?" He questioned, tracing the little pink mark with his finger.
"Oh, Anders. I could ask the same of you and your hands." She giggled a bit before giving him a soft smile. "When I was younger, Bethany, Carver and I would play 'Templars and Mages' in the barn. One day I tripped while Carver was chasing me and landed on a nail sticking out of a board. It cut my knuckle right open." She stated. He brought the hand upward and kissed the scar.
"I bet you were the mage and Carver was the Templar?" He joked quietly, hoping nobody would hear them.
"Of course."
Authors Note: As you can tell so far, these aren't really "Late Nights with Anders" more just like small drabbles between them. Please review! Until next time!