Status: Finished
Golden Slumbers
I Wanna Hold Your Hand
Oli
Till knows something is wrong. He watches me all the time now, but not like he used to. Now there’s worry in his eyes, and he’s careful around me. That part’s annoying as fuck.
Something about him calms me down, though, relives a little of the stress. I like talking with him, even if I can’t say everything I want to. He took my hand today, turned it over and over.
His fingers are much smaller than mine and still painted black, and his skin was warm. Till ran a fingertip over the calluses on my palm, across the scrapes and bruises on my knuckles. He leaned over so far his head touched mine. He still smells good.
“Oli, where did these come from?” I tried to pull my hand back, but he didn’t let go. “Tell me.” “I got angry. Punched a wall.”I muttered. He sighed and looked up at me, green eyes sad. His eyes are so large they’re almost hypnotizing, making me forget what I want to say.
“What are you angry at? Your hands have to hurt.” “I just get really angry.” I realized he was still holding my hand, thumb absentmindedly stroking my palm. It felt good, so I let it be. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked, making me smile.
It’s something I like about him, how he offers himself without hesitation. “No. I’ll be fine.” The Lunch bell rang and he stood, letting go of my hand. “I’ll see you later then.” “Okay.” Charlie and Alejo were watching me as he left. “Oli.” “Yeah?” “You know we’re friends no matter what, right?” “Uh, yeah. I know that.”Alejo nodded, patted my shoulder, and left with Charlie.
Till knows something is wrong. He watches me all the time now, but not like he used to. Now there’s worry in his eyes, and he’s careful around me. That part’s annoying as fuck.
Something about him calms me down, though, relives a little of the stress. I like talking with him, even if I can’t say everything I want to. He took my hand today, turned it over and over.
His fingers are much smaller than mine and still painted black, and his skin was warm. Till ran a fingertip over the calluses on my palm, across the scrapes and bruises on my knuckles. He leaned over so far his head touched mine. He still smells good.
“Oli, where did these come from?” I tried to pull my hand back, but he didn’t let go. “Tell me.” “I got angry. Punched a wall.”I muttered. He sighed and looked up at me, green eyes sad. His eyes are so large they’re almost hypnotizing, making me forget what I want to say.
“What are you angry at? Your hands have to hurt.” “I just get really angry.” I realized he was still holding my hand, thumb absentmindedly stroking my palm. It felt good, so I let it be. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked, making me smile.
It’s something I like about him, how he offers himself without hesitation. “No. I’ll be fine.” The Lunch bell rang and he stood, letting go of my hand. “I’ll see you later then.” “Okay.” Charlie and Alejo were watching me as he left. “Oli.” “Yeah?” “You know we’re friends no matter what, right?” “Uh, yeah. I know that.”Alejo nodded, patted my shoulder, and left with Charlie.