✋️ - tori
✋️ - Hold my muse’s hand
If anyone ever asked, Tristan wasn’t much of a hand holder. He didn’t like the thought of physical contact, rather than an occasional dance of the Devil’s Tango on his bed. He wasn’t a fan of things being soft. But then again, that Tristan was trapped in his golden cage, overlooking a world he only wanted to walk in. To feel the brush of something alive. And here he was, living life and working hard at it. He had no value for hard work until that moment, when his very livelihood depended on it. But it felt good to work towards a goal, towards something.
And for all his fears of intimacy, he felt them slowly shift and fade. Because in a town where no one knew him beyond the life he created for himself, Tristan felt safe. Like he was only human, instead of a product of the machine that churned his destiny out. So as they sat atop the hood of his car, watching the stars and talking about nothing and everything, Tristan wasn’t scared to take Nori’s hand in his own. Watch as her skin brushed against his own palm, him lost in the fascination that was the sensation of touch.
Interlacing fingers with hers, Tristan fell quiet beside her. Tracing with his eyes the stars, amidst the inky black sky and a splash of colour Nori’s voice brought into his world.
