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Zenko took her hand, pressing their palms together. Uzui’s was bigger than hers, fingers lean, long enough that their tips could curl over Zenko’s short trimmed nails. For an instant, she was jealous, what a charming woman with such charming hands, but it didn’t take long for her to get lost in the charm herself. Bigger and larger, just as she wanted her future husband’s to be.
And she hoped this future husband would, just as gently and slowly as Uzui, lace their fingers together. That he would press his lips to her knuckles just like Uzui did, looking deep into her eyes through his messy bangs just like Uzui did. She hoped he would pull her close just as tight, kiss her with just as much passion and intensity and breathtaking hunger, hold her chest to chest and never let her go. One day, Zenko knew, she would no longer feel the strength of a woman’s body beside her — instead, it would be her man.
“What is it?” asked Uzui, her tone suggesting a mild irritation. “You’re staring at me with those eyes…”
“I’m just think about the future.”
“So isn’t the present good enough for you?”
She stared at her lover and watched a crease form between her brows. Zenko nestled in her arms, reveling in Uzui’s warmth and feeling that funny tightening in her chest that she got sometimes, when the two of them were as close as they could possibly be.
“Yes,” said Zenko, “it’s more than enough for me.”