~an endless world~

It was an innocent question, yet you feel like you’ve been caught. 

“Oh! It’s going well, you know, some interesting things are happening right now.” 

Zayne closes his notebook and turns to give you his full attention. He rests an arm on the back of the sofa, slowly drumming against the plush surface with his fingers. 

“Really? Like what?”

You frantically lift your book up, eyes darting back to the page. “Well, the main character has just entered the foreseer’s palace and um…” Your voice trails off. 

“I know, you told me that before we sat here.” He shifts closer to you, your bodies now touching. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, plucking the book from your grasp. Your body freezes at his unexpected closeness. 

Head leaning forward to inspect the words, he flicks back a few pages. His breath is near your ear as he speaks, 

“That was about… three pages ago? And yet, you can’t recall what you’ve just read.” He hums in thought. Goosebumps form on your skin at the low timbre of his voice. He moves the bookmark back to its original location and places the book on the table. 

“Has there been something else occupying your mind?” 

Your heart leaps to your throat as you face him. He isn’t wearing his glasses, and his hair is slightly tousled from being recently dried. Unmistakably, amusement glitters in his eyes. 

You huff. “You’re teasing me now, aren’t you?” Your flat stare at him makes the corners of his lips lift. He breathes a laugh, never getting over how much he loves seeing your expressions. 

“Your reactions are too fun to not at least try. Although, I’m not satisfied just yet.” You feel Zayne’s hand drift down from your shoulder to rest at your waist, electrifying the skin under your clothes. 

“I’d still like you to make your intentions clear to me.” 

You shy away from his boldness. ““Okay, okay…I just thought your hands looked… pretty, that’s all.” You mumble, playing it off as nonchalantly as possible, embarrassment bubbling inside you. His touch disappears as he withdraws his arm from your side. Puzzled, you watch him examine his hands in front of you. 

“Pretty? Hm…that’s a new one.” There’s a faint sadness in his tone. He absentmindedly rubs the scarring on his forearms, a consequence of his evol powers. “I can’t imagine why something so unremarkable would be so interesting to you.”

The opportunity presents itself and you take both his hands in yours. 

His skin is cool to the touch as you glide a thumb over his knuckles. He briefly tenses. You pat his knuckles in reassurance, a signal that he can relax. His fingers are slender, with prominent veins trailing along the backs of his hands. 

Hands that are a testament to his skill and dexterity as a surgeon. Hands capable of playful touches and soft embraces that you feel lucky enough to experience everyday. 

Zayne has trouble steadying his heart rate. He tries to recall the slow breathing exercises he instructs patients to use, but his thoughts get muddled when you connect palms and interlock your fingers with his. Despite it being his own orchestration that led to this, he’s become putty in your hands. Your touch is delicate, treating him like he’s fragile ice. He admits to himself how nice it feels for you to give him this kind of attention. 

“I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but they’re not unremarkable to me, Zayne. I think they’re beautiful.” You squeeze his hands in emphasis. A moment passes. There is such sincerity in your eyes, he can’t help but begin to believe those words, believe practically anything you say right now. 

“Well,” his voice comes out more uneven than he expected, “I do think highly of your opinion.” 

He releases your hands. The surprise on your face reminds him of a child whose toy is packed away before they can finish playing. Another expression of yours to log in his head. 

“You should get back to your reading. I’ve distracted you for long enough.” He collects his items from the table and stands, handing your book back. Before he leaves, he kisses you on the forehead and you happily lean into it. You feel quite accomplished. Perhaps this means he’ll let you hold his hands like that more often. You become quickly engrossed in your novel as he walks past. 

He’s grateful you don’t look up at that moment to see him flex his hands, an unfamiliar heat pulsing through them. The sensation of your touch lingers with him for the rest of the night.