[ Not long after their fingers join, his hand squeezes down and his eyes clamp shut, the moment disrupted by another wave of popping, squishing, snapping sounds that limbs should not make.
She's seen him in the morning prior to his daily hour spent carefully preening in front of a mirror, when he thinks he looks his worst. And she's also seen him in the evening, after he's been waiting for the end of a bad school day to let out his emotions in the privacy of his bedroom, when he actually looks his worst—so it's fine if a few tears quietly escape the corners of his eyes.
no subject
She's seen him in the morning prior to his daily hour spent carefully preening in front of a mirror, when he thinks he looks his worst. And she's also seen him in the evening, after he's been waiting for the end of a bad school day to let out his emotions in the privacy of his bedroom, when he actually looks his worst—so it's fine if a few tears quietly escape the corners of his eyes.
She won't tell anyone. ]
Cooking's not usually such a nightmare.