He Hold My Hand Novels & Stories

Instead, his hand reached for mine and, before I could even process it, he held it. I froze instantly. My fingers stiffened in his grip as my brain struggled to catch up with what was happening. Aiden was holding my hand. Publicly. Casually. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. My heart did something strange in my chest. “W-what are you doing?” I asked under my breath, still staring at our joined hands. “Leaving,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. It didn’t.

I don't know if he love me or not but I love him till eternity, till my last breath. I looked at his hand which he used to changing the gear. I wanted to hold it but I'm too afraid to do. I forward my hand to hold his but I pull it back when changedthe gear aggressively. I try once again but due to lack of courage I pull it back once again. After sometime I forward my hand to hold his hand in mine but I feared to touch him so I pull it back but to my surprise Siddharth hold my hand in his and intertwine our fingers.

"Giacomo, take me away." He held my hand tighter. "Okay."

“He will feel bad, right?” A hand held mine. I looked down and saw Zion holding my hand. My face contorted as I observed him holding my hand while we’re together with many people. With fast beating heart, I looked around to see if someone saw him holding me. But he’s blocking my way, so no one saw that. Afraid that we might get caught, I tried to pull my hand out of his grip. But he did not let me escape. ‘Seriously! What’s wrong with him?!’

“I’m scared. What can I do with my life? I’m not even eighteen. It’s like chasing the unknown, just like you said. I feel like I’m suddenly alone…” Liam sighed, and then he held my gaze. “Can I hold your hand?” I nodded. Slowly and tenderly, he took my hand and entwined his fingers with mine. “Have you ever held a guy’s hand before?” I sniveled my tears back. “Just Samuel’s…” His eyes gleamed again. A ghost smile played on the sides of his lips. “Then I must be lucky. Can I hold you?” I was stunned, but my cheeks felt as red as ever. “Yes…”

He just stays there, holding my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world, letting me take my time. And for the first time in a very long time, I believe that maybe… just maybe… I don’t have to do this alone.

is keep holding his hand. Just a little longer.

He exhales the way a man exhales when he has been holding his breath for a long time, the way a man exhales when the answer is the right one, the way a man exhales when the woman he is dating has just said the thing he was hoping she would say, except he was not going to say it, because it had to be her answer, and her answer was the right one, and he is exhaling because the right one is the one he needed. "Okay," he says. "No show. Just us." He reaches over. He takes my hand. His thumb is on my knuckles. The way it has been every time. The small, careful, very specific way of holding a hand that I am going to think about for the rest of my life. For the first time in weeks, it does not feel

Something addictive. I held his hand tighter, unable to let go. And he didn’t pull away.

“Better than six feet under, isn't it?" I swallow. Yes, I guess it is. I miss the next step, gasping as I stumble forward. Callahan catches me, steadies me, then wraps my hand around the handrail, his hand covering mine entirely, the skin rough but the act gentle. He keeps it like that, holding mine for a moment too long and I still have to look up at him even though he's standing on the lower step. "Hold on to the handrail," he repeats. I nod, breaking eye contact.