Gentle Touch Smile Novels & Stories

“Like what?” “Smile at me.” She tried, but it looked forced. I tilted my head. “That smile looks like you're about to stab me.” “That’s probably true.” “Try again.” She gave a softer one. “Better,” I said. “Now touch my arm.” She placed her hand on my elbow. I raised an eyebrow. “You’re not touching a goat.” She squeezed. “Ow.” I yelped. She smiled for real. I grabbed her waist gently. “Now, my turn.”

I reach out, hesitating just above the gear shift, my fingers trembling. And then I do it. I place my hand gently over his. For a second—maybe less—nothing happens. And then he turns his head, just slightly, and looks at me. Our eyes meet. Time slows down. He doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t flinch. He just... looks at me. And then, he smiles. Soft. Warm. Real. And something inside me breaks—and heals—at the same time. It’s not the kind of smile that says “I’m proud of you,” even though I know he is. It’s not pity or patience. It’s something else.

He reaches across the table before I finish the sentence. His fingers are warm. That registers first. The warmth feels good on my skin and I want to smile just from thinking that. He lifts my face slowly, carefully with two fingers on my jaw, then angles it gently towards the window light. His touch, I can feel it more firmly now, feels good on my skin for sure. He is not tender in that way that flows from a loving heart, just … careful. Like he is about everything else. Precise. Deliberate. Then his thumb moves.

No one had ever believed in me this way. “Thank you,” I said softly. “That means more than you know.” He smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing gently. We ate quietly for a moment — until he leaned forward slightly. “You have something here,” he said, gesturing to his lips. Before I could react, he reached out and brushed his thumb across my mouth, wiping away a trace of salad. His touch was light — almost hesitant. But it sent a current down my spine. And then, before I could breathe, he brought his thumb to his lips and smiled faintly.

But it came out softer than I meant. I close the space between us. Her breath catches. I'm almost shocked at how gentle my touch is as I correct her form. I nudge her arms into position, one hand shifting her hip before dropping back to my side. I'm usually blunt, cold, hard enough to leave damage wherever I touch. Instead, my touch is firm but... careful. Her face heats. I watch her eyes widen, her pulse fluttering at her throat. "That's it." My voice has a low, rough timbre. "You got it."

The gesture was so smooth that it almost startled me. His fingers rested lightly against the fabric of my dress, steady but careful. "Smile," he murmured without looking at me. I looked up at him. "I am smiling." "No." A hint of amusement flickered across his face. "You're threatening the camera." Despite myself, I laughed.

then froze when she realized she was smiling. The smile vanished instantly. I shouldn’t be smiling, she warned herself. “Ahh....” she winced again as pain flared. “I’ll be gentler,” Lewis murmured. “And if you keep using that tone, I might start thinking you want me to touch you. Don’t turn me on.” His voice was low, dangerous, sending an unwanted shiver through her. This time, his touch was careful. Attentive. When she reacted, he listened. When she tensed, he slowed. When she made a small sound, he paused.

The deepening smile on Jeremy's face confirmed it. In the next moment, Jeremy's lips gentely met Celeste's. It was different from their previous passionate kisses. This time, their kiss was infused with tenderness, like a butterfly's gentle touch. Celeste could feel the soft touch of Jeremy's tongue as it playfully danced with hers, exploring her mouth with a delicate touch and utmost care.

I swiftly changed the topic of conversation. "Are you experiencing any pain?" I used my fingers to gently touch various areas around his shoulder. "Ha... yes." "Sorry Sir," I withdrew my fingers. "And here?" I asked as I touched near his neck. "Hmm... no." "And here?" I inquired, aiming to determine where he felt the most pain when I touched him. To my surprise, during our initial encounter, he smiled. I hadn't realized I was tickling him, but my fingers had ventured into his armpit. It was at that moment, when he suddenly smiled and withdrew his hand, that I became aware I had unintentionally tickled him.

I pouted my lips and looked away but I just felt Zero’s hand on my jaw, and make me meet his eyes. “You’re cute when you’re getting embarrassed,” he teased which makes me frown. I glared at him. “Really?” I asked, sounding sarcastic. Zero let out a soft chuckle and pinched my cheeks, gently. Yes, in his every move and word—the way he speaks, it shouted: gentleness. Why, oh, why? He runs his fingers into my cheeks, seems like he’s trying to memorize every angle of my face, it tickles but something arouses inside me.