Then We Held Hands Novels & Stories

I placed my hand in his. His fingers closed around mine, warm and strong. It was just a handhold. Simple. But in the cold night, in the midst of the chaos we’d created, it felt monumental. A quiet agreement. A new start. We stood like that for a minute, not speaking, just holding hands under the watchful eye of the guard and the cold Geneva stars. Then, wordlessly, we turned and continued our walk, hand in hand. The path was just a circle in a courtyard. But it felt, for the first time, like we were walking forward. Together.

Her brows went upward, her eyes widened, and her lips opened. Was it too much to open the door for her? Looking back, I never did this. But it will be embarrassing to bring this up. And so, I kept my expression calm as I offered my hand. “Let’s go?” I asked while waiting for her to grab my hand back. Her widened eyes grew even bigger as she cast a look into my hand and then back to my face. What? Is holding her hand while walking a weird thing either? Well, back before, we never held hands. But we kissed already and hugged each other. This thing should not be a big deal.

Her voice was serious but cheeks were as red as tomatoes. We continued eating. At some point we both reached for the bread at the same time. Our hands landed on each other. Neither of us moved. I looked at her hand under mine. Then at her face. She was looking at our hands with an expression that was very still and very present and not pulling away. Then she turned her hand over. I held it. We ate dinner one handed after that without discussing it or making it into anything that needed discussing. Her hand in mine on the table between us, both of us talking about other things while that one thing stayed quietly and certainly where it was.

As cheesy as it was, our hands fit perfectly together. "See, this isn't so bad," he remarked, as we started walking. Not so bad? It was a hell of a lot better than 'not so bad'. "Plus, anyone who looks at us will know we're together," he added. "That should help our inner monsters." Someone shot us a weird look, but I ignored them. It wasn't like I'd ever see them again, anyway. And crazy shit happened at college all the time. Jesse and I ended up holding hands for most of the day.

I caught her hand, our fingers locking without thought. “Deal.” We stepped out of the room together. The ocean waited beyond the glass, but honestly, the best view in that villa had just walked out holding my hand.

he said softly and holding his hand out for me to take . I took his hand and intertwined it with mines and I felt his hand tighten around mines. I smiled as I looked down at our joined hands.

His fingers laced through mine slowly and carefully, like he was still learning how to do this. I squeezed his hand, he squeezed mine too. We stood there in the quietness of his study holding hands, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt like it was right.

Zach’s hand was so rough and the crazy thing was that they fit perfectly with mine. “What am I suppose to turn to?” Zach inquired as he tried to remove his hand and I held it back. I glared at him again. My face softens as I tightened my grip on him, “So this is why I see people hold hands, it is the nicest thing ever,” I grinned as I examined both hands been interlocked. “You have never held a person before?” Zach asked me, I didn’t even know when I had nod my head to confirm his assertion and now he demanded an explanation. “Why?”

As Jacob stands up, his eyes filled with smiles, he extends his hand towards me, "Are you ready?" "Yes." With a mix of emotions, I grasp his hand and rise from my seat. We approach the front door, our hands intertwined, however, a hint of hesitation creeps into my mind, and I gently release my hand from his grip. Confusion flickers in Jacob's eyes, and I can tell he is trying to understand. I break the silence, saying, "We probably shouldn't hold hands." Realization dawns on his face, and he nods, saying, "You are right."

In this moment, we accepted the challenge Lucian had placed before us. As our hands found each other, fingers interlacing, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of connection and support. The clasp of our hands symbolized a bond that surpassed words—a tangible representation of our unwavering commitment to one another. It was a gesture that spoke volumes, reinforcing our shared purpose and unyielding loyalty.