“Fraser.” Ray said, and took Fraser’s hand in his own. He had warm fingers. Dry palms. Rough knuckles. Ray’s thumb stroked across his wrist. “This what you’re sorry about?” He looked at Fraser, cocking an eyebrow.
I loved how a little touch took on such significance...good job!
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“Fraser.” Ray said, and took Fraser’s hand in his own. He had warm fingers. Dry palms. Rough knuckles. Ray’s thumb stroked across his wrist. “This what you’re sorry about?” He looked at Fraser, cocking an eyebrow.
I loved how a little touch took on such significance...good job!