When my sister and I were younger and both living with our parents, we shared a room for a few months.
She was five, I was eight.
We did not fight much, but we did enjoy getting in each other’s way.
So in these few months, we also shared a bed. We would draw an imaginary line in the middle of the bed to demarcate our sides. But someone’s toe or strand of hair always ended up on the other side.
This meant war.
We both assumed highly uncomfortable positions that were obtrusive to the other.
I always managed to annoy her more and she would back off. (It wasn’t hard because she has always been petite, even at 5)
We’d both return to our own side and get ready to sleep. Then suddenly in the middle of the night she would find my hand and hold it, often pulling it to her side.
I never stopped her. It wasn’t something I really enjoyed, but I knew she was scared of the dark.
Over the years, sometimes even now when she is crashing at my place, I catch her holding my hand from a distance.
That’s our relationship, she is my child and I will always want to protect her.
Last night, I was in bed with my master. His bed. We fell asleep, with a great deal of space between us. A little while later I found myself trailing the path to his hand. I found it, and instantly felt elated.
He squeezed my hand and then just lightly placed his over mine.
I don’t know how I feel about seeking protection but apparently I am.