Physical claim
1021 Words
The way Elias touched me changed before I even realized it.
It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t dramatic. It was small things that slowly became normal.
His hand resting a little longer on my lower back when we walked. His arm around my shoulders that lingered just a moment too long. The way he gently pulled me closer whenever someone passed too near, as if to remind them I belonged to him.
At first, it made me feel protected. Like I was chosen. Like I mattered.
We were sitting in the library after school, sharing one of my books. He had one arm around me, holding the pages steady while I read quietly beside him.
“You’re cute when you concentrate,” he murmured softly, his breath warm on my ear.
I felt heat rise in my cheeks. “Stop it,” I whispered, but the smile that tugged at my lips betrayed me.
“I mean it,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple, then my forehead, then my cheek. Each kiss was slow, soft, like he was memorizing every inch of me.
I smiled without trying.
“You do that a lot,” I said quietly.
“Do what?” he asked, his voice calm but playful.
“Kiss my face.”
“I like it,” he said simply. “It feels... right.”
His hand slid down to mine, fingers intertwining with mine. I didn’t pull away.
When the bell rang, he walked me to my locker. A group of students passed by, laughing loudly. One boy glanced at me and smiled.
I barely noticed.
Elias did.
Without hesitation, his arm slid around my waist, pulling me close against his side. The movement was smooth, almost instinctive.
“You okay?” he asked softly, voice calm but low.
“Yeah,” I said, caught off guard by how close we were.
He fixed the boy with a steady look until his gaze shifted away.
Then Elias leaned down and kissed my forehead.
“You don’t need to pay attention to anyone else,” he murmured. “You’re with me.”
My heart fluttered.
We stepped outside into the warm afternoon sun. The world felt quiet around us.
“Walk with me,” he said gently.
“I always do,” I replied.
He held my hand tightly as we walked. Not painfully. Just firmly.
When we reached my street, he stopped me.
“Wait,” he said, turning me gently so I faced him. His hands rested on my arms, his thumbs brushing softly over my skin.
“You’re really special to me,” he said, eyes searching mine.
My chest tightened. “You are to me too.”
His eyes darkened just a little, but his smile stayed soft.
“I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
I laughed nervously, unsure what to say.
He smiled, leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, then my lips, then my forehead again.
“Not in a bad way,” he said quietly. “I just don’t like the idea of anyone else thinking they have a chance with you.”
I didn’t know what to say.
So I kissed him back.
His arms wrapped around me, holding me close. Not rough. Just... secure. Like I wasn’t going anywhere.
When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine.
“You feel safe with me, right?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good.”
That night, my phone buzzed nonstop.
Elias: Did you get home?
Elias: You okay?
Elias: Text me when you’re in bed.
At first, I smiled. It felt like he cared.
Me: I’m home. I’m fine.
Elias: Good. I was worried.
Later:
Elias: Why aren’t you replying?
I’d only been gone for five minutes.
Me: Sorry. I was brushing my teeth.
Elias: Okay.
A few minutes later:
Elias: I like knowing what you’re doing.
I stared at the screen.
Me: Why?
Elias: Because you’re important to me.
That should have felt sweet.
It did.
And somehow, it didn’t.
The next day at school, Elias barely let go of my hand. When Cassie tried to pull me aside, he stayed close.
“She can talk to you later,” he said quietly but firmly. “We’re busy.”
Cassie frowned. “We haven’t hung out in days.”
Elias smiled politely. “She’s with me now.”
I laughed awkwardly. “It’s okay, Elias.”
He looked at me...really looked at me.
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he said softly.
He kissed my forehead.
The warmth returned.
The tightness stayed.
And I didn’t know which one was more real.
But there were other moments, too, that unsettled me.
Like the time I mentioned casually I was going to a friend’s birthday party next weekend.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Elias said suddenly, his voice low.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know those people. I don’t want you around people who don’t care about you.”
His tone wasn’t angry. It was tense. Serious.
I nodded, biting my lip.
I knew I was supposed to feel grateful he cared. But a small part of me felt trapped.
When I said I’d still go, he didn’t argue. Instead, he said, “Just promise me you’ll text me every hour.”
I laughed nervously.
“I’m serious,” he said, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
“Okay,” I whispered.
And I meant it.
Because when Elias touched me, when he held me, when he kissed my forehead and my cheek and the corners of my lips it all felt like love.
But when he pulled me close too tightly, when he watched me with a hard edge, when he demanded to know where I was and who I was with… it felt like a cage.
I wanted to believe in the softness, the warmth.
But the tension simmered just beneath the surface.
And I wasn’t sure how long I could hold both at once.
- Writer
