AN: I came. I saw. I met Rick Riordan. (I fangirled. Hard.) (He liked my CHB shirt.) (He's so nice for such a TROLL who writes EPIC CLIFFHANGERS and then makes us wait a whole YEAR.) (I had actually just finished SON about twelve minutes before. It took a lot of restraint not to rant.) (...I must find this man again. Somehow.)
ANYWAY. I feel like I didn't do the King of Pop justice in this one... Another one of those more-based-on-the-title drabbles.
Will/Nyssa
The Way You Make Me Feel by Michael Jackson [4:59]
His hand is warm around hers. It's a little sweaty but that's okay; hers is too. And she doesn't mind the blisters from all that archery practice either. Hers are so covered with calluses and cuts and scars that they look like they've been through a meat slicer. His thumb brushes over the back of her hand, absentmindedly tracing the scars and veins and she kind of feels embarrasses but then he smiles at her and everything's okay.
(He's thinking the same thing.)