Imagine Gillian and David at a dinner party with close friends, sitting in the garden by night in soft light side by side on a comfortable, cushioned bench. Davids arm is draped over her bare shoulder and his thumb draws little circles on the soft skin of her arm while she laughs heartily at one of Orlandos jokes. David’s so comfortable around these people, he occasionally leans over and kisses her sun-kissed cheeks, earning lovely, affectionate smiles from her. As Nancy brings the desserts, she isn’t sure which one she wants to try, so he takes the opposite of what she has, and she ends up eating both, because she loves dessert, and he loves watching her enjoy herself. When they lit a bonfire on the beach later that night, he pulls her into his lap and catches Orlando’s genuine smile in the corner of his eyes. He’s so happy, and the people who love him are entitled to know.
Bringing this back because Orlando Jones has obviously witnessed things…
Publié
Just Holding Hands 