procella-x

'do you think we'd be afraid to touch if we were blind?' she asked, reaching her hand out and placing her fingers over his face. her thumb on his cheekbone, a finger on the lid of each of his eyes. holding them closed; but gently. even in the little light from the streetlights down the street, her hand cast a shadow over his face, hiding his features with the dark reflection of her flesh. he didn't move, and she sat, still, with her arm outstretched, savouring the softness of his thin skin. he didn't answer, afraid to break the silence, so it went on, and the words he might have said hung between them in the air, dancing around her arm, acro