The touch was so brief that at first, he thought it was a mistake. Her fingers, soft and delicate, grazed his with such subtlety that it almost seemed as though it hadn’t happened at all. He could have imagined it—he told himself that—because nothing about it seemed deliberate. And yet, the moment her fingers brushed his, a jolt ran through him, sharp and unexpected.
It wasn’t the first time their hands had been near each other, but this time it felt different. It wasn’t the awkwardness of a handshake, nor was it the comforting pressure of a casual touch between friends. No, this was something else entirely. The way her fingers lingered just a second too long, as though testing the waters, sent a tremor through his body that he couldn’t quite explain. His breath hitched before he could even catch himself, and his eyes locked on hers for just a moment longer than was natural.
He couldn’t tell if she had done it on purpose or if it was an accident. The way her hand had moved, almost as though she had been reaching for something nearby, made it hard to decipher. But the electricity between them—however fleeting—was undeniable. He felt the weight of it, heavy and charged, pressing in around them.
She didn’t pull away immediately, though. She seemed to let the touch linger, as though waiting for him to react. It was subtle, but there was a question in the air, one unspoken, hanging between them. Was she testing him? Was it a silent invitation? Or had it really been an accident? The uncertainty of it made his pulse race. It left him teetering on the edge of something he wasn’t sure he was ready for, something he wasn’t sure he even wanted.
She shifted slightly, adjusting herself in her seat, and in that instant, the space between them grew. But the moment her fingers brushed against his, it felt like everything had changed. No longer were they simply two people in the same room; in that touch, that fleeting connection, everything had become charged with a tension that couldn’t be easily ignored. The question lingered in his mind: Was it intentional? And if so, what did it mean?
Her eyes met his for a second, and just like that, the spell was broken. She smiled—soft and casual, as if nothing had happened. But in the silence that followed, he knew something had passed between them. Something small, something quiet, but something undeniable.