Chapter Text
It was a cold night. Not the kinda dramatic cold that had your teeth chattering and left your panties frozen, but the kind that made you involuntarily shiver all the time like a wet puppy after a bath.
Bunched up in a jacket three times her size, trying to aggressively merge into the corner of her window seat in the bus in a desperate attempt to block the cold air seeping into her bones. In an awkward position, but it wasn't really the merging-into-corner-desperate-attempt that made it awkward, oh no no no no no.....*evil laugh insert*
She was sitting right behind him, the love of her life, the light of her eyes, the one who made her smile even in the darkest times of her life, her pretty boy. To anyone in front, they would be seeing a normal view, just her sitting behind him, right? Little did they know, in the small sliver of space between his seat and the wall of the bus, was an adorable, lovely scene that no one had access to viewing. Her small, warm hand was tightly clasped in his large, cold one, as if he could tuck her away safely from this cruel world and protect her forever.
It wasn’t the first time. They did this all the time. His hands were always cold — cursed by winter, cursed by poor circulation, cursed by fate itself — but they only ever warmed when wrapped in hers. She was his personal heater, his shield, his safe place. And he held her like he knew it, like he would never let go, as she was the only tender, sweet thing who gave him endless love and warmth in the harsh reality known as his life.
Her thumb traced lazy circles against his palm, a rhythm that spoke of comfort and belonging, she always did this, to relax him, to comfort him, to pour all her love in him. She pressed his index finger three times- their code, their personal code- 'i love you', and he answered her back, he always did, pressing her index four times, 'i love you more'. Sometimes their fingers slid slowly into the spaces between each other’s knuckles, intimate in a way words could never capture, soft, delicate skin of their fingers, sliding down until the pads of their fingertips settled in spaces between their fingers, where they were meant to be- and as always, they fit perfectly, and their intwined hands became a pulsing, living thing. Those touches weren’t just idle; they were declarations. You're mine. And I'm yours.
And yet, even in that safety, he was possessive. When her little sister leaned against her side, giggling at something only siblings could understand, his grip tightened. Not painfully, but firmly — as if jealous of the air itself that dared to share her attention. His hand enveloped hers, a silent plea: Don’t forget me. Don’t let go. You're mine. And as she always did when this happened, she took his palm gently and nestled it against hers, her fingertips rubbing soothing patterns onto the back of his hand, reassuring him, as if saying- Relax, love. I'll always be yours.
The bus hadn’t started moving yet; it was waiting for passengers, dark and hushed, the lights still off. And in that shadowed pause, he stole the chance.
A gentle pat against her hand — a signal to still it. She obeyed, confused yet trusting, her breath caught somewhere between her throat and her chest.
Then, with a courage that felt both reckless and tender, he bent down and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss on the back of her ring finger.
Her heart stuttered. His did too. They were both shy, both erratic, both caught in the chaos of fast‑beating hearts that didn’t know how to slow down.
She was blushing ferociously, her eyes hazy yet wide, replaying the soft, delicate, tender feel of his pretty little lips pressed against her ring finger, the same lips she's always dreamed of kissing, the same lips that always seem to have a soft sheen of shine on them- and the same lips that are just as desperate to be smushed against hers.
No one else saw. No one else knew. The bus remained dark, the world oblivious. But in that hidden sliver of space, they had created something that would linger — a blush, a smile, a memory, and a soft secret.