21
Rue
It’s only once he turns my hand loose to go down first, that I realize just how long he held my hand. It felt natural, like he was an extension of my hand. For some reason, this makes me feel all kinds of odd.
We amble down the path, my eyes downcast, my thoughts dark and murky. Shame and embarrassment float around in my head, and a tingle of illicit thought. The earth and stone rise on either side of my head, adding to my sense of oppression.
When we descend to the beach, coming out of the not-quite-tunnel, Dryas turns to me with a grin. It’s so bright out that I have to shade my eyes. But then too, the brightness of the sun brings the sultry heat that I feel against my skin.
I can’t complain about that, honestly. Nor do I complain when Dryas strips off his navy tee shirt. My
