“What’s wrong?” he asked, and he reached out to touch my arm.
I don’t know what I expected. But his touch was warm, and soft, and all the things I was just thinking about suddenly disappeared as quickly as they came with the pressure of his hand. I stood there, unsure what to do, as if my body was ready for fight or flight but received relief instead. It washed over me, and I shook my head.
“Nothing,” I said.
A bit from my work in progress ‘Adam’, a horror/romance short story. My first contribution to Six Sentence Sunday. Thank you for reading.