Wrapped Around Her Finger Novels & Stories

Her brows twitched a little, but she didn’t stir. “Always stubborn,” I whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. Then out of instinct, I ran a finger slowly down the side of her cheek. Suddenly her hand shot up as fast as lightning, and locked around my wrist. I blanched out in shock and my heart stuttered in my chest. For a second, I thought she was awake, ready to throw me over her shoulder like one of the training dummies. But she didn’t move again. Her grip was tight but not angry. It was just a reflex from sleep. A warrior’s sleep.

The soft tremble in her fingers, the way she bit the inside of her cheek and the way she blinked rapidly, forcing back whatever emotion was clawing its way out. When she finished cleaning the blood, she dipped her fingers into the ointment. But when she leaned in to dab it along his cut, he caught her wrist gently. “Annalise,” I murmured. She didn’t look up.. But her pulse pressed wildly beneath my fingers. “You didn’t have to do this.” She swallowed hard and her eyes flicked up to meet mine and gathered every ounce of courage she had.. pulled her wrist free, dipped her fingers in ointment again, and gently, carefully applied it on my skin.

"The next day I made two cups. One with less honey, one still sweet. You drank the less-sweet one. And then you drank the sweet one I'd left on the table, too." She said nothing. He moved the ring an inch closer. "You glanced at me. Then you picked up the sweet cup and took another sip." The corner of his mouth curved—something lighter than a smile, like a man finally releasing words he'd held down for too long. "This ring doesn't lock you to anything. It just holds a place." She extended her left hand—her index finger, not her ring finger. He froze for a beat. Her index finger bore chilblain scars, the knuckle slightly thicker than the others, dark purple bruises trapped beneath the nail. O

She just kept pushing. My grip tightened just enough to make her gasp. Not enough to hurt. Never enough to really hurt her. “You think I won’t?” I whispered against her ear, lips brushing her skin. “You think because I put a ring on your finger I suddenly became soft?” She shivered but didn’t pull away. “I could snap your neck right now, Kitten. End this headache you’ve become.” Her small hands came up and grabbed my wrist. Not pushing me off. Just holding on.

She did not turn around. She kept the charcoal moving. The left hand, palm upward, the relaxed curve of it. She was working on the ring finger, the slight weight of the band she had put there, the way it changed the familiar line of the hand in a way that was new and also, already, simply true. She heard him settle.

She was an angel. " Aww.. Thank you. You look so pretty " Pearl smiled at her. She really looked so beautiful, with her long hair in a messy bun and a purple gown. She was stunning. " Let's go " She grabbed her hand and felt something under her palm. She looked down and found a beautiful diamond bracelet on her wrist. " Wow.. It's so pretty " Pearl smiled. She raised her hand to tug a hair behind her ear. Lucas saw this. The look in his eyes suddenly changed.

She raised her hand to smack on his face but he grabbed her wrist before he could receive it. "I did wrong to you, you did wrong to me. Why are you still running behind the fate which we ended long ago?" She asked, her wrist still in his hand until she felt his grip tightening on her wrist. He said nothing and abruptly pulled her closer to himself. His hand leaves her wrist and slides up to her hand as he intertwines their fingers together.

He decided to spend the night. She turned her hand over slowly and looked at the ring in the dark, the emerald catching nothing because there was nothing to catch, just the shape of it on her finger, and she lay there and did what she’d been doing for a week, running her thumb across the band and waiting for the feeling to arrive completely. It didn’t arrive completely.

"Give me your hands." She held them out. Her fingers were slender, her skin soft. As I started wrapping the coarse tape around her knuckles, securing her wrists, the room felt smaller, it seemed to close in on us. I took my time, my thumbs pressing deliberately into her palms. Her breathing hitched, the rise and fall of her chest drawing my gaze to the sliver of bare skin at her waist.

How should she handle the misunderstanding with Luca? Raising her left hand, she observed the golden ring on her finger, the cause of all the trouble. She tried to take it off her finger. However, she failed no matter how hard she tried. It seemed the ring had glued itself on her skin. At last, she gave up, groaning in frustration and, her head leaned against the steering wheel again.