Novel Hold My Hand Novels & Stories

The Hunter sighed, turning his hand in mine to squeeze back. It was strange to have someone hold my hand. I’ve never been the hand-holding type. Thinking back, the last hand I held was his, in that one blissful moment we shared before my father snatched his life away. Before that monster left me broken, defeated, and worse immortal.

I stretch my hand out to him. “What for?” “In case you don’t return it on the date you wrote in the permission booklet, I’ll toss your card away and you’ll never step back in again.” He mumbles ‘bitch’ under his breath, dips his hand into his pocket and pulls out his card and hands it to me. I beam at him, and he rolls his eyes before leaving. I pray he doesn’t return it, so I can happily toss this into the toilet and flush. I sit down and pick up the novel ‘When star burns by Ninya Tippett’ on my desk, continuing from where I stopped before I got interrupted. Books such as these make me believe in love and that everyone would find it at the right time.

Sorry let me see it" He said ..I shook my head,my fears increased..He may not take it lightly. "Hm" He sighed.."Let me carry you to your room then" He said and my eyes widened...God !! He's really getting close to carry me..He's gonna see his torn novel and yell at me. "No" I said afraid...Bringing up my hand to disagree,i didn't realise that was the hand i was using to hold the novel, it spilled out and i felt my body vibrate,he took a long surprised look at it then buried his face in his palms,his hands pushing through his soft hair.

," my beautiful girlfriend caught my attention. I snapped out of my thoughts. "Of course, I am." I smiles, as I holded Michelle's hand the mother of my unborn child. Our feets fills the cold, water as my skin. "No, you're not listening," She shook her head. She was about to let go of my hand, when I had stopped her and pretended to tie my shoes. "Do you really need my hand, to tie your shoe?," she questioned me as she turn her head facing the ocean view. I took out the little black box from my pocket, and look at her. "Yes, I do need to hold your hand, until we can't no longer hold." She turned her head back, with widened eyes, as she tear up.

I asked with a tentative smile. “Yes.” She nodded eagerly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, hope flickered. “Can I hold your hand?” I asked, extending mine to her like an offering. She stared at it for a few seconds, hesitation flickering across her face. Then, slowly, gingerly, she placed her hand in mine. My chest ached with the sheer weight of it. She believes me. At least for now. And that’s enough. ********* Edwina

She's taken off guard for a moment but then she leans against the palm of my hand and holds it, muttering a 'you're welcome' for staying with me. We silently sit there for a couple of minutes, closing our eyes while holding hands. It hits me that I've never felt this relaxed in the past decade of my life, yet when Myla wraps her arms around me or holds my hand, my whole world calms down and I'm at peace.

"Can I hold your hand? Just your hand. Nothing more." Nadia went very still. I watched her shoulders tense and saw her hands clench at her sides. Every part of her body was screaming no but she slowly turned and extended her hand anyway. I took it gently and felt her fingers tremble in mine. We stood there in the dim nursery just holding hands and it felt like the hardest thing either of us had ever done. Her palm was sweaty and her breathing was shallow and I knew she was fighting every instinct to pull away. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Slowly, painfully, I felt some of the tension leave her hand. Not all of it. Not even most of it but enough that I could breathe again.

Looking at her one last time, I whispered again, “I’ll never let you go, Arora.” The faint creak of the door stirred me from the haze of half-sleep. I straightened immediately.A nurse stepped in, clipboard in hand,Blinking away the grogginess,It was then that I noticed my hand still holding Mila’s. Her small fingers rested in mine, delicate and warm.resting so naturally in mine, as if they belonged there. I stared at them for a moment, realizing I must have drifted off while holding her hand. Carefully, I let go, placing her hand back on the bed as gently as I could.

But it came down. "How do you feel," he said. I looked at the white flowers. "Like I have been holding something in one particular way for so long," I said, "that now that someone else is holding part of it I do not know what to do with the hand that is free." I looked at him. "Not bad. Just. New." He nodded slowly. Then he reached across the table. Past the flowers and the candles. And he put his hand over mine, not dramatically, not with the weight of a grand gesture, just his hand over mine the way it had been over mine on a hundred ordinary evenings and a handful of extraordinary ones.

However, it was too late now. Nicholas kept inching closer and closer to me. Then, he stomped on my right hand and kept stomping on it with all his might. The pain was so great that I couldn't even make a sound anymore. Tears flooded my eyes at once. Nicholas' figure turned blurry in my vision. Now, he looked even more like a monster to me. I tried to pull my hand back, but it was to no avail. I felt terror spreading through my chest. My hand!