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“I could keep him in place with the weight of a fingertip, I think. Very gently, very carefully, I curl the hand on his chest into the fabric of his biosuit, tugging him ever so slowly toward me. My cheeks are streaked with dried tears, and I can see every shade of violet in his eyes, the line of blood across his cheek where a shard of the exploding Trigger cut it. And as our helmets touch, we’re so close I can count his eyelashes. And he holds still for me. “I don’t know what comes next,” I say softly. “But why don’t we see where this path leads us? Let’s just find out together.” — Amie Kaufman
I could keep him in place with the weight of a fingertip, I think.
Very gently, very carefully, I curl the hand on his chest into the fabric of his biosuit, tugging him ever so slowly toward me. My cheeks are streaked with dried tears, and I can see every shade of violet in his eyes, the line of blood across his cheek where a shard of the exploding Trigger cut it. And as our helmets touch, we’re so close I can count his eyelashes. And he holds still for me. “I don’t know what comes next,” I say softly. “But why don’t we see where this path leads us? Let’s just find out together.