late drabble: Holding Hands
Title: Holding Hands
Prompt: Holding
Rating: PG
Word Count: 191. Hell that's even within the limit!
A/N: Just a little drabble to try and get the muse kicking again. Also, I wanted to post this while I could still use my old icon (although I think I just missed '09)!
A/N II: Happy New Year, everyone. And lets make '10 the new Year of Bram!
Holding hands.
She never took it for granted. Even now: just walking hand-in-hand on the boardwalk, the summer night pleasant but not warm enough to really endanger their ice cream cones.
Sam loved holding hands, but there wasn’t a single time-even after all these years-that she didn’t think of holding Brooke’s hand as she lay there in the days after the accident. In the daze after the accident.
But as much as it hurt-as much as she felt the loss all over again every time she flashed back to that moment-she wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You okay?” Brooke asked. “You spaced out there for a second.”
“Sorry,” Sam chuckled.
“Did you go somewhere nice?” the blonde teased.
Not really. But she wasn’t complaining. Because every time she held Brooke’s hand she remembered how close she came to losing her.
Of never having this. Of never knowing this incredible feeling. And as their friends went through broken relationships and messy divorces they all looked to the two of them and wondered how...?
It was right there: her secret.
Right in the palm of her hand.
Prompt: Holding
Rating: PG
Word Count: 191. Hell that's even within the limit!
A/N: Just a little drabble to try and get the muse kicking again. Also, I wanted to post this while I could still use my old icon (although I think I just missed '09)!
A/N II: Happy New Year, everyone. And lets make '10 the new Year of Bram!
Holding hands.
She never took it for granted. Even now: just walking hand-in-hand on the boardwalk, the summer night pleasant but not warm enough to really endanger their ice cream cones.
Sam loved holding hands, but there wasn’t a single time-even after all these years-that she didn’t think of holding Brooke’s hand as she lay there in the days after the accident. In the daze after the accident.
But as much as it hurt-as much as she felt the loss all over again every time she flashed back to that moment-she wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You okay?” Brooke asked. “You spaced out there for a second.”
“Sorry,” Sam chuckled.
“Did you go somewhere nice?” the blonde teased.
Not really. But she wasn’t complaining. Because every time she held Brooke’s hand she remembered how close she came to losing her.
Of never having this. Of never knowing this incredible feeling. And as their friends went through broken relationships and messy divorces they all looked to the two of them and wondered how...?
It was right there: her secret.
Right in the palm of her hand.