for once, sam looks soft and comfortable, relaxed, even. it sends relief through your veins.

these days, he’s been tired. exhausted, really. he still holds tension in his shoulders, and you’ll smooth it all out with a soft massage at home. you don’t miss the slight furrow in his brows that he carries with him everywhere. but there’s even a light upturn to his lips as his eyes flick across the page. he’s a fast reader, and he’ll probably be done with his new book if you stay here through the afternoon as well. that’s why you made sure that he bought two.

today, you’ve taken charge of plans, driven him to the bookstore in town you’ve always wanted to visit, and made sure that there’s nothing else for him to worry about. you’ve been there all morning, sitting in the cafe section with warm drinks and crisp new books. sam is content, so you are too.

the high noon sun streams through the cafe’s wide windows, warming your back and brightening the pages of sam’s book across from you. it illuminates his big, rough hands that softly hold the book open. the strong light casts strong shadows, even from the small details of his veins and strong tendons.

sam grabs your hand gently, the pages of his book shifting lightly as he does. he doesn’t look up at first, his hand just knows where yours is, like there’s a piece of silver thread tied from his palm to yours. the smile on your face grows and you curl your fingers around his. then he looks up, eyes bright and soft in the sun.

“thank you,” he murmurs.