I Hold Your Hand In Mine Novels & Stories

He picked up his wallet and brought out a card, handling it over to Tracy. “Here's your card, go get yourself a new dress. Today. And if you exhaust it, call me. Give me your phone” He stretched his hand to her, with a bony face as Tracy handed her phone over. Dialled his phone number and gave the phone back to her “That's my number, save it up and call or prolly a text. I'd be ready to pick you tomorrow”

But then—his hand brushed against mine, warm and trembling, like he’d been waiting forever for this. His fingers closed around mine, gentle but sure, as if anchoring me to the moment. For a beat, he didn’t speak—just held my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles like he was memorizing the feel of me. His green eyes searched mine, and I could see it there, unspoken but blazing: the truth I’d been terrified to name.

Then put my hand in his. “Partners.”

I retract my leg and turn around. The back of the man who walked past me with his hand in his pocket and a scarf around his neck was broad and big. It felt like a familiar figure, a posture of a perfect someone with a walking style that was defined as elegant and high class. I've seen that man before. It couldn't be, could it? "Mark?!" I called out to him. The man suddenly stops walking and turns around, it is at this moment that forgotten memories of the past begin to flood in, giving me a vibe of Deja vu. "Is that you Chloe?" The man questioned.

he replies, his hand reaching out to cover mine. I look down at our intertwined fingers, a tangible symbol of our interwoven lives. In his touch, I find a paradoxical blend of strength and fragility.

I assured him, my voice a tapestry of promise. Zack hesitated, a fragile tendril of trust unfurling as his gaze met mine. I could see the war within him, a tempest of hope battling caution. But then his small, cold hand slipped into mine—an act that felt monumental. The warmth of connection thrummed through me, a silent pledge wrapped in this simple gesture.

his hand in mine, "I want to be with you," I cut him off as he talked. Squeezing his hand, "I know I said I didn't want to rush things, but it seems that the world has other ideas. It pushed us together like the last piece of a puzzle, a perfect fit."

Then who was this she was holding that wasn't her daughter, was she dreaming? She did a double check and looked down at the feet of the individual; it was very big, two times bigger than Katie's and she glanced up and then she shook herself off the individual, as she moved away, she looked at person, her heart went to her mouth. 'Oh God!' Then she shook herself hard. Pearl, what have you done? She frolicked with her fingers, wondering how she ended up holding...... She watched him smile at her, why was he smiling?

I tried to pull my wrist from him but he held it firmly. He kneels, sliding his hand from my wrist to hand, holding it softly, taking a small blue velvet box from his pocket. He opened the box and a delicate diamond ring showed. “What the f…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. “Elena, will you marry me?” He asked in a deep voice, projecting it loud enough so the paparazzi could hear.

I could trust Axel I felt that in my soul. We fixed ourselves, then he held my hand, guiding me out of his car. "What's with holding my hand?" I teasingly uttered to him. "So they are aware you're mine." He said. The mine word resonates in my heart longer than in my ears. My fragile heart nearly jumped out of my rib cage.