Firmly Grasp It Novels & Stories

“Let. Me. Go!” But instead, his grip tightened even more, fingers digging into my skin hard enough to bruise. His face was a mask of cold control again, though I could see the strain in his arm and the way his muscles flexed to hold me steady. I didn’t wait for him to answer.

I gripped the glass tighter. "Do it.”

Valerio tightened his grip around me, as if anchoring me to the world. “What?” I whispered.

“Yes?” He swallowed, weak but steady. “Don’t let go.” Her heart squeezed. “I won’t.” She tightened her grip around him And didn’t let go. Not for a single step.

I'm assessing the current. "You're gripping your hands very tightly." I looked at my hand. I was gripping myself very tightly.

Still she said nothing, but one of her hands tightened in the fabric of my shirt. That small, desperate grip almost ruined my control.

Too steady. I held on.

she said. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> "Yes," he said. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> She reached across the table. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> She took his hand. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> He turned his hand over and held hers properly, fingers closed – not the uncertain almost-grip of people who are unsure of the gesture but the grip of someone who has decided it and is doing it. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3">

Like something wild had come to the surface and hadn't decided yet whether to go back down. His grip tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to make clear I wasn't going anywhere until he was ready to let me. "Who the hell are you?"