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There was something different in his touch.
It was not the same as Mitsuri's effusive, suffocating hugs. Or Rengoku's pats on the back. Nor was it the same as Muichiro's loose grip on her hand when greeting her, or Himejima's brotherly caresses in her hair. It didn't look like Shinazugawa's annoying poke on her forehead, or Obanai's almost ghostly hand on her shoulder.
It was all that.
It was more.
It was unique.
His hugs were gentle, with his long arms wrapped around her waist and his body leaning downward in order to bury his face in the space between her neck and shoulder. The pats on her back were more like mappings, soft and electrifying tracings on bare skin, searching for the treasure of a place that would make her shiver and make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
The grip on his hand was one of intertwined fingers and caresses on its back with his thumb, warmth passing through that connection, recognizing through touch the long, hard hours of effort in each relief of the opposite palm. Those same long fingers left caresses in her loose hair, walking through the dark strands and sinking into them.
He planted short kisses on her forehead, just a light touch, which immersed her in clouds of cotton and good mornings and left tingles all over her face.
His touch was hands, kisses, hugs, caresses.
It was about sighs on their skin, unrestrained kisses, bites on their thighs, flesh connecting and taking them to a whirlwind of pleasure that then made them fall into a peaceful drowsiness of tangled legs and protective hugs.
It was about listening to her all the time, paying attention to every word or inflection in her voice, knowing from her speech what ailed her. He had a straight, pointed nose that sank into her hair and sniffed hard, that ran along her neck and tried to retain her scent as much as he could. She had a loving and soft voice, a soft and concerned tone, with affectionate, I love you, beautiful, perfect words that made her feel strong and powerful, that made her feel everything he said. He had blue eyes that didn't directly touch her, but were capable of making her stomach tickle as if it were a kiss. It was about smiles just for her, perfect white teeth that made her heart race.
The touch of a man in love was different.
And the way a woman in love felt it was different.
Giyuu's touch was different.
And Shinobu loved that.