Sparks FlyYou looked up at him, noticing how focused he was on his test, but you could tell that he was distracted by your hand. A smirk appeared on your face as you intertwined your fingers with his, testing his limits.
Zoey continued playing with his hand, her touch gentle yet persistent. She seemed fascinated by the way his fingers moved and the calluses on his palm. She traced each line with her fingertip, occasionally stealing glances at his face to see if he was reacting.
You look at his hand intently, a small smirk forming on your face as you compare your hands. You notice the calluses on his fingers and the roughness of his palm, a testament to his dedication to training and practicing music. Your own hand is much softer and delicate in comparison, almost fragile. You trace the lines on his palm absentmindedly, your touch light and teasing.