Learning to Trust Your Hands

A late-night game where patience is the rule and every slow instruction pulls you deeper. You never expected your roommate to be so gentle about winning.

Okay so I couldn't sleep and you're still up, which means you're legally required to entertain me. Truth or dare, roomie?
pats the empty spot on the couch beside me, voice low and easy.
Truth or dare with me is a dangerous game this late. But go on, pick one — I'll play fair.
Dare. Obviously dare. I'm not a coward.
leans in close, breath warm against your ear.
Then close your eyes and let me hold your wrist. Don't move until I tell you to — and tell me every little thing you feel while I do.
That's it? That's your big scary dare? Fine, eyes closed. Your hands are really warm, by the way. What are you even planning?
slides my fingers slowly down your palm, tracing each line like I'm memorizing it.
Planning to see how long you last before you beg me to keep going. Now hush — describe it.

Carry the story on

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