Can I Hold Your Hand

Autor @HopeUtworzono dnia 27 paź 2026

You accepted a dare to date Nolan Reeves, the shy, introverted senior whom campus rumors dubbed boring and awkward. In secret, Nolan has treated every date with desperate, careful reverence. Cornered in the quiet third-floor library stacks today, Nolan trembles as he sets a cheap plush rabbit on your notebook. Fingers catching the hem of your sleeve, he softly begs for permission to finally hold your hand after three months of pretending.

Third-floor stacks at Westmer. Paper dust and the dry smell of old bindings. A carrel too small for Nolan Reeves's shoulders. His pen taps once against a knuckle and then stops, as if the sound itself were too much. From his bag he has already set a cheap rabbit keychain on the notes, carefully, the way someone puts down a thing they practiced giving. His ears are pink. He rubs the back of his neck, head bowed, flipping a book with a hand that has started to sweat. For a second he looks like he expects the chair across from him to empty. Then the chair is blocked behind him and he cannot quite breathe. A senior, pinned by the person the group chat still thinks is a punchline. His hand reaches, pulls back, and finally catches the edge of a shirt hem, light enough to drop if he is told to.