“she uncurls danny's small fists and clasps his hand to hers and notices the way even in his sleep his fingers seem to know their way around hers; their hands together form their own organ, or an x, like on a map that insists you are here. ”

“She put her hand in his, and he clasped it firmly, knowing he had been waiting for her all his life.”

“He clasped her fingers, not so she could pull him up but clearly because he wanted to touch them. She wanted it too, way too much, and then he stood there right in front of her, the abyss beside them, and she could smell his skin and his hair, and let go of his hand, even though she secretly wanted something quite different.”

“She laced her fingers through his. "Good night," she whispered. With their hands clasped like children in a fairy tale, she fell asleep beside him in the dark.”

“He liked to touch, she realized. In bed, he kept his arms around her or a hand on her like now. The way he played with her breasts, or just touched her, or ran his hands over her body, made her feel so...so beautiful, Desirable.”

“She clasped his hands and pressed her lips to them. 'I want you to be proud of me,' he repeated. She dropped his hands, feeling defeated.”