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Cerise’s hands were covered with the softest layer of downy fur. She didn’t let most people touch them, so almost no one knew about this. Raven remembered the first day Cerise had trusted her enough to slip her hand into the other girl’s.
They’d been out in the forest on an early date. This was before Raven officially knew Cerise’s secret, but they’d both sort of known that she knew. Raven was observant, and she’d seen the little things-- how hungry for meat Cerise was in the cafeteria, how fast she could run. A wink from the big bad wolf in the halls. They’d established a comfortable rapport of not talking about it. There was no need to confirm what they both already knew.
They’d swung into the forest on the way back from the village, just to get some fresh air. They’d finished and thrown away their Hocus Lattes a while back, and they were walking side by side in the warmth. Sunshine filtered in between the branches of the trees. Raven told a joke, and Cerise laughed. Her laugh was so pure when she wasn’t holding anything back.
Then, shyly, Cerise had laced her fingers with the other girl’s. Raven had been taken by surprise when she first felt how soft Cerise’s hands were, but after exchanging a knowing glance, there was nothing else to say. Cerise’s hands were fluffy, like a little puppy. The hair was so pale that it could hardly be seen. Raven thought it was wonderful.
They’d walked, hand in hand, through the forest. When they reached the edge of the woods, Cerise had pulled her hand away. The world didn’t need to know her secret just yet. But Raven kept that trust inside of her, and like a deeply rooted plant, she felt her love blossom.