A safe hug

Smith buried his head in Julie's chest, a place he always ran away from, but now it was as if the whole world had gathered in this small warm spot on Julie's body.

**Julie's touch** was like a living blanket;

**Her muscular thighs** under Smith's hips, **tight and warm**, like two pillows filled with Julie's body heat, **gently pressing** against Smith's skin with every little movement of her body machine. **Her attractive jeans** were a bit rough, the coarse texture of the denim beneath Smith's fingers, which he unconsciously gripped, **rough and warm**, like the bark of a freshly cut pine tree. Every time Julie moved her legs, **her thigh muscles tensed and released**, and Smith felt that **tiny muscular tremor** beneath him, like a small wave coming from the depths of the sea.

**Julie's** fingers moved **slowly and steadily** over Smith's waist, under his hoodie;

Her fingertips, **slightly callused** from yoga practice, **rough and warm**, like a river rock warmed by the Montana sun. Every time her fingers passed **Smith's** spine, **his** skin would tingle**, a **tiny electric tremor** that ran from his waist to his toes. **Julie's** short, clean nails** would occasionally make a **gentle scratch** across his skin, not painful, just **real presence**.

**Julie's loose gray hoodie** was under Smith's face, **soft and woolly**, with the scent of **lavender conditioner** and a hint of **fresh sweat**. Every time Julie breathed, **the fabric of the hoodie rose and fell**, and Smith felt that **soft movement of the fabric** against his cheek, like a **gentle wave of wool**.

**Julie's voice** echoed in Smith's ears;

**Her heartbeat**, **duh… duh… duh…**, fast and strong, like **the drumming around a campfire**, **getting a little faster** every time Julie laughed, and Smith felt that **sound vibration** in his chest.

**Julie's breath**, **warm and moist**, with a **tiny exhale** coming out of her nose, like **a breeze through pine leaves**.

**Her laugh**, **loud and clear**, sometimes a **short sob** at the end of the laugh, that trembled in her chest and was transmitted to Smith.

**The sound of Julie's fingers** on Smith's skin, **a tiny rubbing sound**, like **a dry leaf dragging on a stone**, every time her finger moved.

**The sound of the hoodie**, making a **tiny rustle** with every movement of Julie's, like **autumn leaves underfoot**.

Smith closed his eyes.

**The sound of Sarah laughing**, **the click of Lucy's camera shutter**, **the sound of Angela's cup on the table** – it was all far away, like **sounds underwater**.

There was only **touch**;

the touch of Julie's thigh beneath him,

the touch of Julie's fingers on his waist,

the touch of the fabric of the hoodie on his face.

And there was **sound**;

the sound of Julie's heartbeat,

the sound of Julie's breathing,

the sound of Julie's laughter.

And in that moment,

the **hug he had always hated**,

became **the only place he ever wanted to leave**;

a **warm, living island in the middle of a Montana winter**.