Ian

He touches my hands with a strong grasp. His minuter fingers tighten around mine, holding on for just a few seconds before letting go to grab something else. I make his torso rest on my arm as I lift us both from a chair. I can feel his delicate body depend on my hold. The slightest movement seems magical- his hands clinching together and apart, his eyes focusing and unfocusing, his little mouth wide open. So fragile; his vulnerability scares me. I turn him to face me. His eyes reflect the light from all around, protected by a shiny layer of water. They focus on mine. I try to look, expecting to find something. He lifts his chubby hand towards my face and quickly grasps onto a strand of hair. His little eyes squint and with a smile he pulls on my hair.