To Hold Hands

He watches with bated breath.
Her graceful advance across the kitchen,
The slender strength of her arms carrying porcelain plates,
The confidence of her step,
The simple flow of her dress.

He sits in a chair across the room, slightly flushed.
She glances at him, offering him a smile that stops his heart.
It reaches her kind eyes, showing a genuine friendship that he had never known before.
She returns to her task, turning back to the sink.
His heart beats anew, and he remembers to breath.

This emotion.
It was strong, foreign, terrifying.
What does one do with love?

He knew he should leave, go back home.
But what was home?
The place where he had been alone? Miserable?
The very idea caused him pain.
To never see his closest friend again was unthinkable.

He couldn't stand it, this concoction of emotions.
Forbidden. This was forbidden. It could never be.
Such a risk this was. Did she feel the same?
Could she share his heart?
No. Who could love a demon like him?
And yet, to leave...
To fade from memory...

Indescribable pain. He knew. He knew.
He could never part from her.

Standing, he gently pushes in his chair.
Time slowed. He moves to be beside her.
She looked up at him with innocent curiosity.
He breathed, without even realizing how hard it had been to do so before.
His eyes finally showed what he was feeling.
He released the words he had held for an eternity.