Work Text:
Calloused hands, firm and strong
Not the sort of hands you’d expect from a mayor
Hands torn from work and knuckles bruised from fights
Of course, merely custom for an Inspector
Hands soft, unmarred by toil
His first fight ripped his hands to pieces
Slender hands used to digging and planting
Never defenceless, not with her father
Hands showing the marks of many battles
She’s had to fight from the age of eight
A leader’s hands, patterned with bruises
He had to learn quickly when he left
Hands stained with paint, nails bitten down
Wrists marked with thin white scars
Hands always covered in ink stains from writing
The planner, rarely any time to clean his hands
Hands adorned with flower rings and painted nails
Still marked from fights, he’s not weak by any standard
Hands twisted nervously, pulse point memorised
Hands ready to help and heal, trained only by practice
Hands covered in notes and doodles
Notes of law and drawings of evidence
Small hands, often blemished with paper cuts
Hands that can punch better than either of her boys