Held in Your Hand
End
The night had started well.
Lyralda was never really hesitant. Not even in the simplest gestures. She moved with that quiet confidence that always made me feel like she knew exactly where she was going.
I was only just learning how to breathe again.
After putting away a plate, she stood still for a moment.
Then she turned toward me.
Her eyes studied me as if she were checking something one last time.
“Come here.”
Her voice was soft.
I stood up.
She stepped closer.
Her fingers slipped into mine.
The gesture was simple.
And yet I felt as if something settled a little more inside my chest.
She looked at me for a second.
Then she said:
“We’re going out.”
I frowned slightly.
“Now?”
She lifted a shoulder.
“Yes.”
A brief pause.
Then she added, with that half-smile that belonged only to her:
“Unless you'd rather keep being miserable indoors.”
I let out a soft breath.
“No.”
“No what?”
“No, I’m coming.”
She squeezed my fingers lightly.
And for the first time in a long while, following someone didn’t feel like disappearing.
Night had already fallen when we stepped outside.
The air was cool. Streetlights cut the road into patches of orange light. People were still out. Cars moved slowly through the city.
We walked side by side.
Her hand was still in mine.
She moved with that calm certainty I knew so well. As if everything were simple for her.
I was just trying to stay in the moment.
Not think.
Just walk.
We reached a livelier street.
A bar was making noise on the corner. Two people were laughing too loudly near a bus stop.
And then Lyralda stopped.
I turned toward her.
“What?”
She was looking at me.
Not the way she usually did.
As if she had made a decision.
Her fingers tightened slightly around mine.
Then, without warning, she pulled me toward her.
And her lips met mine.
For a full second, my mind went completely blank.
The street still existed around us.
People were walking past.
Someone was talking behind us.
A car drove by.
And there I was, standing in the middle of a sidewalk, kissing a woman as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist.
I tensed slightly. A stupid reflex.
I glanced around.
Nobody was really looking at us.
Or maybe they were.
I couldn't tell.
That old anxiety surfaced briefly.
Other people's eyes.
Lyralda, meanwhile, didn’t seem to spare the thought a single second.
Her hands came to rest against my neck.
The kiss was slow.
Calm.
As if she were silently telling me:
stop thinking.
I felt my chest tighten.
Then something gave way.
And I kissed her back.
For real this time.
Not halfway.
Not carefully.
Just...
like her.
When we finally pulled apart, she was looking at me with that small smile.
“You see?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“See what?”
She shrugged.
“Nothing.”
Then she took my hand again.
“Shall we?”
I looked around the street one more time.
People kept living their lives.
No one seemed particularly shaken by our existence.
Something light rose inside my chest.
An unexpected relief.
I squeezed her fingers a little tighter.
“Yes.”