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Sometimes he catches her staring at his hands. He decides to ignore it. A while later, he’ll find her inching closer and closer to him. He’ll ignore that too. Then she’ll say something — something silly or stupid but cute. Then he’ll pat her hair, scoff, and she’ll laugh and look all triumph. And this repeats often so ray begins to wonder if she likes him — his hands, he thinks. He doesn’t expect his feelings to be returned, but the thought of her liking his hands intrigues him.
“So you like my hands, Emma?” Ray inquires, and her lips tug into a quirky smile. Her face flushes a bright crimson red and she nods. Her confession takes him by surprise and now he’s the one who’s speechless. His lips part and he feels blood rushing to his cheeks and ears. “A-are you okay?”
“I am okay,” Emma replies, smiling, “it feels so nice and comforting and familiar.” It’s the familiarity that gets to him. And his parted lips soon drops to a frown. Sometimes Ray wonders if there’s a way to undig all her lost memories. He wonders if there’s a way to replant them in that brain of hers. But he often wonders if that’s the right thing to do. Maybe it’s best that she doesn’t remember all the horrible memories, all the sufferings.
But they had good memories, his internal voice speaks and when he feels her grab on to his hand, he realizes that he’s freezing yet Emma's so warm. “If there’s something you want to say, then please trust me.” Emma says. Her green eyes watch him and suddenly he’s nervous because he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. But he doesn’t know any right things to say either. “Why are you so lonely?”
“I’m not!” Ray snaps, and she jumps. and then he feels bad — and then in a much more calmer voice he says: “I’m not — i just — i think it’s just best if i don’t talk.”
“But you trusted me, right?” Emma says. “You trusted the past me, I guess.” And hearing her say the “past me” shouldn’t have made him tear up, but there ray is, his eyes burning because he did trust her and he did miss the past. He did miss it when they were children, when Norman was still Norman and Emma was still Emma. Maybe he should be honest with her.
“I do trust you, Emma.” Ray says, trying to even out his voice but he can hear how shaky he sounds. “You’ll always have a special place in my heart, Emma.” And he finally begins to tighten her hand, her warmth piercing his cold. “But there’s a lot of things I can't tell you.” At least not now. her smile disappears and then there’s a very long pause. It isn’t awkward. It's just them searching into each other's eyes, unspoken words pierce between the white walls and open windows. Je wonders what will happen if he kisses her.
Then she takes a step closer towards him, and she leans against his chest. She can probably hear his rapid chest beating. That’s fine, Ray thinks, maybe that’ll be his confession. That he loves her. “Just know that I’ll be by your side,” she says and his breath hitches, “whatever path you choose.”
And before parting ways, Ray makes sure he pats her head before heading out.