li

Of course, I was right. You were great at volleyball. Almost as good as me. When I saw you screw up that pass, I couldn't help but smile. The mean comment came out of my mouth against my will, but the other players were used to it. I expected a grimace on your face at most, so when suddenly your face was inches away from mine I almost backed away. I kept pretending to listen to your nagging with a smirk on my face. In reality I was tuning the negative remarks out, something I was adept at since I was about ten. I waved you off before you finished speaking, not sure if I was disappointed or excited because you stood up to me.

I wasn't entirely certain of anything anymore.

I looked down on you now, standing on the other side of the net. Your gaze never wavered and you remained standing there with pride until the whistle blew, signaling the end of practice. I made eye contact for just a moment more, letting the warm feeling in my chest sink in.

Your presence in my life made me feel anxious anywhere I went. It might not sound like a good thing, but no one ever doubted me before. There was no one I wanted to impress with my personality and not my float serve. When everyone else left, we stayed together on the bleachers, talking and laughing and catching up. You sat next to me, smiling at me with a sparkle in your eye. A giggle escaped from my lips and before I could stop myself, I found myself leaning into you. We would never be friends, you knew that and I did too.

Before Jo's party, after your parents dropped you off at our friend's house and your mom pulled her car out of the driveway, you leaned back against the window. You turned towards me, looking at me. You stared in a way that for some reason always felt mocking, even if you were smiling gently at the same time, waiting for me to say something. For a moment, I thought about what it would have been like to kiss you. Would it have hurt? Or would it have felt like heaven?

Then, before I really could come to a conclusion about it, your fingers touched mine. They were soft and smooth and so gentle as they ran across my knuckles, moving to rest on top of them. My heart skipped a beat and I watched how your eyes darted up to look at mine. They were full of an emotion that only I would dare to recognize: curiosity, intrigue, maybe... fear.

And that's when it happened. That moment when I realized that you liked me too. More than a friend. It built up my ego enough to be destructive to our relationship.

We locked eyes, staring deep into each others' souls. My heart began to pound loudly in my ears as you inched closer and closer towards me. At some point you leaned over and placed your forehead against mine, closing your eyes and breathing deeply while still holding my hands.

Though my eyes slipped closed as well, I could feel clearly your lips getting closer to mine. You pressed your lips firmly onto mine, pulling me as close to you as humanly possible.

I still don't know if you heard me when I said that we would regret this. I suppose it wasn't for me to worry about, seeing as I could never actually regret our tender moments. You would be the one who would hate herself for warming up to someone like me. All I would regret were my outbursts (that I still prefer to call my 'worse moments') which caused the back of your hand to land on my cheek and leave a stinging sensation there or the bruising around your wrists. You didn't deserve any of those things, but it seemed easier that way.

Each time you came back to me, saying the same exact thing. That I was worth all of the hurt and that it wasn't ever my fault, I was just a troubled teen. If nothing else, my kisses could make all of our less happy moments worth it in a second.

When we finally broke apart you smiled, giving my hands a light squeeze before letting go and greeting the people at the door. I couldn't bring myself to move, to speak. I could barely breathe, let alone get up and walk to the door. Your words faded to white noise as I looked at the ceiling and gulped down the lump that seemed to form in my throat.

"You had no right to do that," you exclaimed once, "You don't get to be jealous when you treat me like shit whenever we're in public!"

I froze. My cheeks burned and my heart beat faster. I know you saw me as your friend and I couldn't really argue with that — you were even more than that for me. No matter how bad I wanted to tell you that, my body didn't let me.

"Oh, yeah? As if you didn't make such a show out of yourself purely for me to be jealous!"

At that you pouted. My heart pounded against my chest as you walked up to me to push me back against the counter.

"I didn't, actually. I never 'make a show out of myself', but I should've expected that's the way you see it. I should've known you're embarrassed of me."

"You really should've! I told you this was how this was gonna go. You know me!"

"I really don't! I really don't. We never talk, we're just sitting there quietly or making out. Is this what a relationship looks like to you?"

I took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, darling," I muttered quietly, knowing that I should've apologised sooner, but was too shy to. I looked around to see if anyone else witnessed our conversation before grabbing your hands gently and pulling you into my chest.

"This is what I'm talking about, asshole! Did you really need to make sure no one was watching before touching me?"

You struggled in my grip weakly, "I'm sorry, darling."

I'm sure you still vividly remember that day. You were the first one to notice I was in a nasty mood. You decided it would be best not to provoke me. I couldn't bear to disappoint you then. Not when you were willing to give your time to me, especially when I had such horrible episodes and the only people who bothered to stick by my side were you and my father. I didn't know it then, but I was going to get proof of that soon.

That evening, as we celebrated with the volleyball team, I tried my hardest not to make eye contact with you. You noticed immediately, but chose not to mention it. As I blew up over dinner, you just watched. I began telling each and every one of our friends how much and why I hated them and the sheepish smile still hadn't disappeared from your face.

As our teammates filtered out of the flat, you stated — it was your home after all. You watched me shove my face into my sweaty hands and exhale shakily. I didn't see you get up, but I soon felt you rubbing circles in a soothing motion into my back.

"It wasn't your fault. I know you've been stressed lately," you mused, "They should've known that's the way you are."

You were the needle in the haystack, but I was a flame.

The hay had turned into ashes and the flame had died down. There you were, laying warm and naked but whole, on the ground, with me.

when your hands do get cold and she notices you trying to warm them up by rubbing them together she will just grab them and put them in her pockets

she will send a charming smile your way and say something disgustingly romantic and sweet like "you won't ever get cold around me again"

and she probably won't let you, she'll keep an eye on you and your hands, always keep you safe and warm

childe

annoying each other is normal for you and childe so when you feel how cold your hands are you immediately know how to use this to your advantage

childe always likes to remind you that he's always prepared and you make sure to point out how easily you sneaked up on him

you lift up his shirt and put your palms on his waist

and when he yelps you can't help but laugh

he turns around and looks at you with a murderous gleam in his eye but you know… jokingly murderous?

"just warming my hands up," you say

he just raises an eyebrow and proceeds to threaten to do the same thing to you when he's the one with freezing cold hands

diluc

when you're cold in general he'd be the type to lend you clothing so when you're trying to warm your hands up he'll give you his gloves to put on

and i just know he has really large hands so yours are drowning in them

diluc also obviously runs hot so expect the gloves to feel really warm inside

to be honest he'd just buy you a pair or two later so you can just make sure your hands don't get cold completely on your own

but! if either of you don't have any gloves on you he will hold them really close to his chest and when i say his chest also radiates such warmth i mean it

he might hide your palms in his shirt or coat too!

kazuha

when kazuha grabs your hand and feels how cold it is he immediately gets concerned

after you explain that there's nothing to worry about and you're not sick, simply cold, he relaxes

he then takes both your hands up to his face and starts blowing on them

if he notices your slightly questioning look, he doesn't comment on it

your palms to feel better after a moment though and you're not surprised he knew how exactly to warm them up

he doesn't immediately let go, he just starts pressing light but also warm kisses to your palms and knuckles

yoimiya

"hm? your hands are cold? oh, you can sit on them like that, look!"

with both of you with your hands under your thighs you look at each other a bit awkwardly which yoimiya seems to notice

she takes her hands out from underneath her legs and rests them in her lap," or do you maybe just want to hold hands?"

the moment you nod and stretch out your arms in front of you she smiles brightly

she takes your hands in hers somewhat abruptly and squeezes them. when she stops doing that she resorts to moving your hands around, swinging or bringing them to and away from her chest

she explains that to warm up you gotta move and well, she isn't wrong!