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In Her Capable Hands
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TITLE: In Her Capable Hands | ||||
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Her hand, flopped against his chest, fascinates him. From this angle, he can see the paper cut along her forefinger. The writing bump on her middle finger by the nail. There's a smudge of ink still along the side of her palm. Nails bitten down to the quick. The tendons on the back of her hand stand out, capable and steady even in slumber. He thinks of the tiny cuts and scrapes as her minor war wounds, the only ones he can't protect her from getting. He tried to put a diamond on her ring finger once, but she gave it back, reminding him that two Skinners in the same office wouldn't pass muster. "Time for work?" "Not yet." "Good," she laughs. She was right to turn him down, he thinks as her fingers stroke down his torso to disappear under the sheet. The best parts of his life are spent in her capable hands. END
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