touch starvation

That night, she was quiet.

Don’t speak, don’t say anything weird. Don’t break the moment, he’s going to leave immediately and he won’t come back, because this is weird and desperate and damn it you need to have self respect after you vomit all your feelings on the floor. Don’t even move, everything is normal and fine. If you hadn’t pushed people away you wouldn’t even be in this mess in the first place.

God was she desperate. How badly she wanted to lean in, soak up the feeling of human skin as much as she could, but no. She couldn’t. For all his worries about being weird and creeping her out, it turned out it was her that was really the weird one all along. This crushing feeling, this pressure, it wasn’t normal. She was broken and worthless. Not on the outside, not for how much she had built herself up, but on the inside. And if she didn’t hide it, she’d never get something like this again.

And then, buried in her abusive internal monologue, she felt a hand through her hair. Slow and gentle, from top to mid-shoulder. She hated that it raised goosebumps on her skin, but if it stopped now she would be pretty deeply upset. But if this went any further she would be an absolute sobbing mess, and then she’d never see him again.

… No, wait shit, why was her face wet, no stop-

“A-are you okay? Should I not-”

“I’m fine! Just- please don’t stop. Please.” No, don’t say that. You’re blowing it. That’s fucked up. “I mean- no- fuck. Fuck… fuck… no that’s really weird to say-”

“It’s… fine. Really.”

“No it’s not holy fuck that was fucked up-”

“I swear it’s fine! I’m just… surprised...”

“… So am I… fuck. I- I don’t know what this is. I’m not like this usually, I swear. Fuck. I know it’s creepy but. Please. Just stay here with me. Please…”

“I didn’t plan on going anywhere… it’s okay. Whatever it is, I’m… I’m here.”

“I- I guess I haven’t really been… close to anyone in a while. A really long time, actually. Sister, she’s… not really a touchy person, and, well… I don’t want to be weird, so I just… don’t, and… now here I am. Being weird...”

“It’s- it’s not weird. Promise.”

“… thanks. I don’t want to… be too much or anything…”

“You’re not…”

“… please. Just… stay here with me. I’m so sorry…”