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a coin
a coin

a coin

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She has seen Lily's drawing of the anatomy of hands; the tendons, the various bones, the tips of the finger that sloped ever so gently. Lily poured over drawings of them, studying the human body, and even asked to draw her hands once after they had hung out. So she held her hand up as she quickly sketched it into one of her leather notebooks, thanked her, before spending the next couple of days refining the drawing and learning all the names of every single bone, part and ligament.

His hands were like the waves of the ocean. They never faltered, moved with certainty, tendons under his skin rolling when his tapered fingers crumpled into fists. They never seemed to match Lily's sketches; the drawn hands flowed naturally, of course, as if the lines could stretch its fingers and grab her arm. But his hand were another thing entirely; nimble fingers, smooth skin, even something as accurate as anatomical sketches could not capture what she saw.

He rolled a coin across his knuckles, the edges of the golden metal tumbling down his fingers like a steady waterfall. The coin slipped in between in ring and pinky finger, only for it magically reappear pinched in between his thumb. She knew the rough mechanics, but seeing so flawlessly execute it every single time, almost as unconscious and secondary thought, amazed her, even after all these times. She would never admit it out loud.

Author Notes: random!!

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3 May, 2021
Read Time
1 min
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5.0 (1 review)

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