Hold Hand Reference Novels & Stories

When Alex saw Shantal offering her hand for a handshake, he did not know what to do. He was not sure if it was okay for him to accept it. But in the end, he still grabbed it. Alex did not intend to hold the other party's hand for an extended period of time, but before he knew it, he was already holding on to Shantal's hand as if he has no desire to let go. It was only when Shantal deliberately cleared her throat did Alex realized that they had been holding their position for more than a minute already.

Still, Leah felt the warmth of his hand travel too quickly through her. “Too much pressure?” he asked. The question brought her back. “No.” “Too little?” “No.” His eyes held hers. “Then remember that. A good handshake gives nothing away except that you are present.” “You make even handshakes sound like war.” “In some rooms, they are.” She looked down at their joined hands. “Again,” he said. She withdrew her hand and offered it this time. He did not take it. Leah frowned. “What?” “You reached first.”

It seemed as though there was more to this than I'd thought after all. The handprint must have belonged to Mia. Given how she was acting so anxious now, it wasn't hard to gauge that she must be having some sort of unspeakable relationship with Rory. After stepping out of the elevator, Mia waved goodbye to me rather stiffly and awkwardly. I noticed that one of the clasps of the keychain on her bag was missing, so it was hanging lopsided. She didn't seem to have noticed, however. The clasp looked familiar. I felt as though I'd seen it somewhere before, but I couldn't recall when or where. Maybe it was similar to a shirt button or clasp I'd bought before.

"Little Star. You've made it." He soothes me, my heart flutters and my stomach does flips. He holds out his hand, my hand moves on its own accord. I place my palm in his. Moon's hand is so large, they emanate power. My hand looks so incredibly small compared to his. Like he's cradling my whole entire being in his hand. So very gentle.

Don held out the book. Thomas received it with both hands, which was the form of receiving that indicated the thing being received was understood to be significant. He did not take it with one hand, the way he would take a cup of coffee or a seed catalog or any of the other things that passed between them on ordinary Mondays. He took it with both hands, his palms supporting the book's weight, his fingers curving around the edges as if to secure it against falling. The gesture was unconscious. Ernest recognized it as the gesture of someone who had been taught to receive important things properly—probably by the same grandfather who was the ground beneath the estate piece.

he said, lifting his hand to demonstrate, “means eat.” His movements were clean, deliberate. Not expressive or exaggerated. Just… correct. I followed. Or tried to. My fingers didn’t cooperate the way they normally would. The bandages made everything stiff, limiting the range of motion, and I could feel the slight pull of pain beneath them when I tried to mimic what he had done. He watched without interrupting. Then he reached forward. “Wrong.” His fingers closed gently around mine, adjusting them into place. The contact was brief, controlled. Nothing about it suggested anything beyond correction, but it still registered. The warmth of his hand, the steadiness of it, the way he repositioned m

"Tесhnісаllу, I аm ѕuрроѕеd tо bе wоrkіng. I ѕhоuld bе рrераrіng уоur lunch, correct?" "Yеѕ, technically уоu аrе correct." "Thеn whаt tуре оf lunсh are you taking mе оn?" "I will ѕhоw уоu." "Turn аrоund. Nоw ѕtаnd ѕtrаіght with уоur hаndѕ fоldеd іn front оf you. Very gооd."

Evelyn remembered, and inquired of Hilda in a soft voice, "to hold my hand?" "What's holding hands? Why hold hands?" "Well ...... holding hands is just that, your hand firmly with mine, is proof that we are close." "Then I want to hold hands!" "But you need to wipe your hands clean, your hands are full of demon blood. I don't like to touch anything too dirty." "...... wiped clean." "What a good boy." Evelyn and Hilda walked side by side, their hands tightly clasped together. Despite the awkwardness of their situation, there was a sense of tranquility in their small journey. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the landscape.

It’s amazing how quickly that happens. “Moving on. What to do when someone grabs you by the wrist. I’ll show you first, and then you’ll try. Here, grab my wrists.” He took my hands and put them on his wrists with my thumbs on the top of his arm and my fingers around the bottom. My fingers didn’t reach all the way around because even his wrists were thick with muscle. “I’m going to break your hold by bringing my hands in toward me while twisting them up and out, then down.”

VENITA: Landon held up his hands as if Jason were brandishing a gun and demanding his wallet. He wrinkled his nose at Jason’s hand like it was covered in infectious disease. He said, “I just don't touch anyone today. I forgot my sanitiser, Jason. Plus, I have no idea where that hand has been.”