December 24, 2016
The lights were glowing around us and the air chilled my skin. The hazy blur twinkling red and green surrounded and emphasizing the Christmas spirit. Everybody was told to bow in prayer and hold hands, "coincidently", I stood beside you and anxiously started to scratch my fingers. You ever so smoothly and in nonchalance, held out your hand to me then looked away.
This was the first time I ever held your hand in the course of knowing you for years. The instant my fingers laced with yours, the warmth of your hands reminded me of the heat that radiates from freshly baked goods. Your warmth enveloped mine as I try to not overthink of what was happening. "Why are your hands so cold?", you suddenly asked, snapping me out of my trance. 'So you could keep my hands warm', I thought. But instead I replied shortly with something stupid, "because they are?".
We were rudely hushed and I giggled to myself. I closed my eyes and reveled in romantic and poetic thoughts of you. Then the warmth went astray as I opened my eyes. Prayers done and your hands had receded from mine. How shy and cowardly was I, for the only reason I ever had held your hand was for a prayer. 'Maybe God did answer my prayers?', I chuckled silently. I looked for you again and realized you were staring at me with a skeptical look. I silently curse myself for having my emotions out in display. I looked away and pretended to have forgotten something, somewhere, with someone.
YOU ARE READING
Inordinately Comtemplating
RandomDawn has a secret, her secret is like everybody else's but different like others. Crushing on someone is hard, especially for an expressive but shy girl like Dawn. This is her journal entries on encounter of "him".
