A Touch Of Understanding Novels & Stories

Too close for Daylen to feel his breath on his skin but not close enough for their bodies to touch. "Are you so scared to be touched by me?" Syvan asked. Daylen locked eyes with him. Daylen didn't know what it was Syvan's eyes. It looked like disappointment and a hint of sadness. Daylen's heart squeezed in pain. His resistance caused Syvan to be sad and in turn that made Daylen sad. His feelings affected the magic oozing out of his hands stopping the force keeping Syvan in the air.

"Understood!" ***

I am not good enough for him. I bury my head in my hands, unable to look. I just can't stand the rejection. It's worse than any physical punishment. I am a failure. How could I ever have thought I could be something more? I didn't deserve him anyway. I should just accept it. My tears stream down my face. I step back into the shadows, no longer able to listen. Then suddenly, I find myself unable to hold back my tears. I can't believe what is happening. I will not see him again.

she said. The same register. The same weight. The single word that meant: I know. I know what that means, coming from you. I know what you're saying underneath the sentence, because I have been learning how you say things for four months and I understand that you do not give this observation easily and I am receiving it completely. His hand covered hers. Where it rested on his arm — a brief, specific pressure. There and gone in the time it took to happen. The gesture of a man who was standing next to something that was his, in the way he had only recently permitted himself to understand.

She understood humility without him doing this to her but she didn’t say it aloud. “Then there was touching involved so I’m going to do that to you as well. That’s fair, isn’t it? Do you know what it is like to have someone’s hands sliding along your skin? Touching your sex? I understand you needed to remove the painful restrictive thing he put on me but your touch lingered. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

She said in her most soothing voice, a smile on her face, the last thing she wanted to do was scare it off. "Can I touch you, if just a little?" The doe stared at her, as though contemplating her, before giving a regal nod and Hannah was shocked. "Can you understand me?" It nodded again, just a subtle bend of it’s head. She swallowed past her momentary shock and took measured steps toward the doe, running a hand down it's flank. One day, she would look back and wonder why she didn't take off for the hills when she realised that the doe… an actual Doe! Could actually understand her.

He lowered himself beside me not rushing, not pushing, just settled there like he had nowhere else to be and nothing more important to do. When his hand reached toward me, my whole body recoiled before I could stop it. "Sorry I didn't mean to" He pulled back immediately. But my hand shot out and caught his. I didn't have words for what I needed. I wasn't even sure I understood it myself. I simply guided his hand upward and leaned the side of my head toward him. He understood without a single explanation. His fingers moved through my hair slowly, steady, unhurried and something inside me went completely still for the first time in what felt like years. I hadn't known touch could feel like

Could he not watch where he was going? Ignoring him, she bent to retrieve the contents of her purse scattered on the floor. “Here let me help with that” The man said, bending to pick up a pen, just about the same time Yvonne was going to reach for it and their fingers touched. Yvonne froze, her hand suspended midair. At his touch, a slam of shock, almost like electricity, hit her so hard she trembled at the impact, and her wolf howled loudly in her head in joy.

“I’m tired of being scared of this. I don’t want to be afraid of you. You are my mate.” A small smile plays around his lips, and he steps closer, his movements slow, deliberate, giving me plenty of time to stop him. I don’t. When he’s close enough, he reaches out, his fingers brushing against my arm. The touch is light, tentative, but it sends a spark racing up my skin. “I understand,” he says, his tone quiet but firm. “I have been used too, so… I don’t take it personally. I know where your fear comes from. You get that, right?”

“And in that instant, I knew if I wanted to make your father suffer I would take what he prized most. You. “So this was revenge?” One time he nodded, “It was.” “And now?” He did not reply. Instead, he took one more step. Nearer. It seemed as though the space between us was shaking. He stretched up, slowly, and smoothed a stray strand of hair back behind my ear. My breath caught. I should have backed off. I should have screamed. But I didn’t. Something inside me broke, and I leaned, barely into his touch. His fingers lingered just a little too long.