"Please... Tell me what's wrong, hmm?"
Chester's heartbroken expression made Paris feel bad for acting up, but he knew he had to leave immediately if he wanted to keep his dignity.
'He's too close,' Paris thought as he clenched his jaw and swallowed hard.
"No, it's nothing. I just... I'm sorry, I think I should leave," Paris said as he tried to push himself forward, but Chester did not let him.
"No, you're not going anywhere," Chester said as he held Paris' wrist tightly. "At least give me some kind of reassurance that you'll talk to me again," he continued, his grip tightening a little more.
It was firm and tight but it didn't hurt. That was how Chester held Paris' wrist.
His hand then slowly slid down and now held Paris' hand. Chester's fingers softly touched his hand, transferring his warmth to Paris' skin, and gently held his hand like it was the most fragile thing he has ever held in his entire life.
