jane austen you make me want to die ; of heartbreak though

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He held out his hand so she could efficiently enter the raised surface of the car

His hand flexed as he extended his fingers while walking away from the car that he had helped Elizabeth into

The action was simple

Not warranting of stretching your hand out as if it had gone through an action that caused it fatigue or tightness

I remember watching his hand flex, the veins protruding, clench of his jaw following closely after

Has anyone ever flexed their hand after touching me?

Has anyone ever turned away from me with such eagerness because they were tormented with fantasies of what they would do if we held each other's gaze for just a millisecond more?

Has anyone ever stormed away from me and put themselves through intense suffering just to avoid a mere second of peace and quiet that they know would quickly be pervaded by thoughts of me?

Has anyone ever clenched their jaw after breathing the same air as me because my scent invaded every crevice of their thoughts and being in my presence became suffocating in the best way?

Has anyone ever held themselves back from helping me because they knew they'd never be able to go back to the version of them that wasn't always going to be there if I ever needed them?

Has anyone ever touched me and recoiled almost instinctually as if they'd been burnt by the realization that they never wanted to touch anyone who wasn't me ever again?

Will anyone ever?

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