Yearning to Hold Her Hand
By the time gamenight was in full swing, Lena was wine-drunk, quiet and contemplative. But that was okay. The night had turned away from the game and towards conversation, Kara’s voice carrying above the others.
Lena watched Kara’s hands move as she recounted the capture of a Thelorite mercenary that had had the Superfriends scrambling for days. She was boisterous, arms above her head at times, and Lena’s eyes followed at a sluggish pace, content to chase fruitlessly.
But it was when Kara settled back, giving the floor to someone else, that her hand landed on the cushion of the couch, resting directly in the space their legs afforded. Lena’s hands were in her lap, fingers slipping along the stem of her glass, but she grew fixated.
It didn’t matter that she pulled her gaze away, she could feel the presence of Kara’s hand. It was so close, pressing a shallow divot into the cushion, the slope just enough for gravity to invite Lena into its pull.
Lena swallowed down the itch until it was too much. She had entirely lost track of the conversation, her closer hand breaking away from her glass, drifting inch by inch over her tense thigh. Her fingers stuttered along the fabric of her pants, her lightly damp skin catching even in her efforts to be smooth.
With her breath held, she couldn’t bring herself to reach across the last gap between them, caught up in the need for a reason, something, anything that would explain the thunder in her ears or the flush of her cheeks.
Even with her gaze directed anywhere but at Kara, she felt the shift of weight, the lifting of her hand. It hollowed her out the way only a lost opportunity could, her chest ready to collapse around her heart. She pressed her hand flat against her leg, squeezed firmly to keep herself rooted.
Warmth brushed against the back of her hand, delicate to a near ticklish degree. Her spine jerked straight and she froze in that rigid posture, not daring to look. Kara’s touch slipped between her fingers, her own fitting neatly with Lena’s.
Kara pulled with gentle care, guided Lena’s grip to release so that she rearrange their hands, palms together, fingers laced with each other.
Kara leaned closer, their shoulders nudging together, and spoke at a whisper that sent a shiver racing down Lena’s arm. “Are you okay?”
It was only then that Lena turned, letting her gaze drift briefly over their hands, before lifting to meet Kara’s earnest stare. “Do you need anything?”
Lena squeezed reflexively, not ready to let go, unwilling to give up the hand she held. “No—“ she felt her throat crack before the syllable was fully formed, heat rising in her ears. “No, this is good,” she managed, and earned a warm smile.
“I’m glad,” Kara shifted a little closer, pulling Lena’s hand into her own lap, her thumb trailing gently over her skin. Lena relaxed and leaned into her, allowing herself to drift through the bliss of it.
