She takes his hand in hers, his long, slender fingers automatically enclosing around like a capsule of affection. His thumb brushes against the skin of her hand, leaving a million suns beaming underneath at its wake. She cocks her head to one side, straining to get a better look at the wonder that is walking beside her and is holding her hand like it were something only a few deserving could hold. He turns to her and smiles. An intense fire of yearning crackles within her, his mere breath air enough to let it burn forever.
Just as she lets the fire consume her greedily, everything recedes into a white blankness, a void in which she has been stripped off of her feelings like they were her own clothes. And there she is: stark naked and cold, her all-devouring fire being easily doused as if it were nothing but the tiny flames of a lit cigarette.
Her hand still clutches something solid, the texture of his skin friction against hers, though she can no longer see it. Slowly, she feels the solid change phase until she could no longer hold it, and it trickles away like flowing water. Uncontainable, never the same.
And then she is grasping nothing but air itself.