"Trust me," he whispers; his hand is outstretched toward me. I glance beyond him, and see only darkness.
"This doesn't feel right." My voice sounds tiny in this vast forest.
"Coward." He smirks. I glare at him playfully, but secretly I am terrified. I look at his hand, palm upward, inviting me to take it. His fingers curl gently, as if my hand is already inside his. I follow the creases in his hand to the veins in his wrist, up his arm to his sure body. He's so spontaneous and confident.
I take a look around me once again. Everything else is definite, and brightly lit...everything but the area beyond him, where he's headed.
"I've been down that path, before." I point toward a familiar area, which is a little boring, but it's safe.
"So have I. I've been down all these paths; all but this one. I'm going with or without you." Something flashes through his eyes, but it's too quick for me to understand. "Coming?"
I look once again at his hand. Right then, it seems as if it's the only thing that exists. I keep staring at it for what feels like minutes, but is probably only an instant. It seems to be getting closer to me; I realize I am stepping toward him. With the feeling that I have no control over my body and I am watching my own actions, my hand reaches out and unites with his. Our fingers latch together as if we are never letting go.
And now we are running.
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