erchommai:THERE’S A SWIFTNESS IN HER MOVEMENTS JONATHAN THINKS he might never get used to. That daunting sense of familiarity — of K N O W I N G that he has yet to find in anyone else. ( Not that there had been much of anyone else. ) Both exhilarating and unnerving at the same time. Trembling knuckles still at her touch. The threat of hell fire rumbling in his chest dissipating for the few poignant moments her own smaller fingers wrapped around his larger ones, ensnaring all his frustration in her grip before releasing it in a series of action just as unprovoked as his rage.
A delicate curve of an almost smile stretches over plush lips, dark hues resonating with almost mocking amusement if it weren’t so genuine. A simple grand gesture of comfort he knew he could only come to expect from her. Fingers curl into her touch, lacing their hands together long after the moment has passed and his gaze returned to the sad mess of her previous art work face down on the floor.
“ You’re aware that wasn’t necessary. Right? “
Their hands are brought a breath away from her lips. “Yeah, it was,” she assures. It seems a bit much, but she’s learned how to read him. That was her duty, she had this gift. An ability to read people in a way that their father couldn’t. There was enough empathy in her soul for her to see what he missed.
Fingers fit themselves between his as she maneuvers herself onto her stool, and at a more tolerable height in comparison to his own. “You’d still be staring at it and if you weren’t, I would be.” Her torso wiggles, the stool squeaking with her, and she smiles up at him. “And I happen to be a firm believer in out of sight, out of mind.”


















