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“A writing exercise from a silly hopeful romantic.”

He held her hand in his; she was reminded of a song where the spaces in between his fingers were perfectly filled with hers. It seemed to be true in their case too. Sometimes she, when he was near and it was still, would just sit and memorize every part of who she knew him to be. When he discovered her eyes on him, he would smile with a knowing smile. He wouldn’t look away though from his book or article, and she continued on with her gaze, encouraged by the wrinkles that lit up his eyes with his amusement of her.

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