The smile faded and his fists curled into great bony hammers on the table in front of him.

He had his hands on her desk, curled into fists, urgency like a knot in his belly.

She'd curved into him in sleep, but he saw that she had her arm between them and a fist curled over her heart.

I held my fist loosely curled, waiting to see if he'd come back at me but he just slid down the wall, gaping and bleeding.

He sprawled there for a second, left hand raised dizzily to block me, right fist curled tight despite the damage the arm had taken.

A fist of instinctive tension curled in his gut.

One fist curled on his knee in anticipation.

Her fists curled against his chest, as if she were uncertain.

Willa bolted straight up in her chair, fists curled.

The fist still curled in his hand went limp.