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When you started dating your boyfriend, there was one not-so-unspoken rule between him and you.
Do not touch.
Yes, that's right, because every time you would get even a little bit closer than necessary, he would pull away and start hissing like a stray cat.
Thankfully, he has gotten better with time (mostly because you couldn't imagine never being able to touch your own partner), but that didn’t stop him from having 'those' days, where just the idea of holding hands was enough to make his skin crawl.
This was one of those days.
You two had been strolling for ages now, feet dragging through the floor and making a whole new trail behind you.
It took some convincing, but after a while Wanderer agreed to take a break, sitting under the shadow of a tree to recover your energies, finally able to take a deep breath and just stare at the scenery around.
The first rays of sunset were starting to show, slowly painting the sky with warmer hues. And yet, what was truly breathtaking was nothing else but your boyfriend sitting to your side, the casting sunlight illuminating his features just right. So beautiful, maybe more than he had the right to be, hat set aside and making it easier to see the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks.
However, you couldn't admire his beauty for long, because he was quick to speak again, opening his eyes to glare at you through the corner of them. "If you have enough energy to stare, you have enough energy to get moving." Ah, what a shame that his thin lips were made to speak instead of kissing you.
"Give me a break, will you? We have been walking all day." You retorted with an exasperated sigh, leaning back to focus your gaze on the leaves instead in hopeful thinking he would drop it. But of course, this was your man we were talking about.
"Hah? Don't tell me you are so weak you get tired this easily? Humans are truly absurd."
His voice came with the tone. Maybe a lure for a trap, maybe an invitation to your familiar bickering. Either way, you weren't in the mood nor had the patience for either.
"Cut it off, Wanderer. Not right now." Your tone wasn't exactly sharp, but was firm enough for him to get the message, holding back whatever counterargument he had on the tip of his tongue. Then, he turned away, crossing his arms.
Silence followed for a minute or two, enough for you to actually start overthinking. Sure, you hadn’t been harsh, but you knew exactly what type of thoughts ran through his mind at the smallest hint of rejection. Maybe you should have worded it better? Should you say something to fix it?
Well, your shift in expression must have given you away, because after a quick glance at you, he spoke once more, his tone a bit more neutral.
"We still need to find another five of those yellow lotuses." He shifted a bit closer, even when his eyes refused to find yours once more. "If you want to actually complete the commission, that's it."
You stared back at the skyline, the sun almost halfway through hiding behind the Sumeru trees. "We should head back before it gets dark. We can go searching tomorrow." But you didn’t make any attempt to move, closing your eyes and letting the sunlight gently caress your skin.
He hummed in acknowledgement, his fingers awkwardly brushing yours before gripping the grass instead.
You didn’t think twice, your hand already moving on top of his. However, the contact didn’t last long, recoiling as soon as he felt the warmth of your palm like the touch alone burned him.
Your eyes snapped open to check his reaction, just to see his expression shift from calm to something way closer to ick. Yeah, okay.
Swallowing your own feelings back, you returned your hand to your lap. "Sorry" you mumbled under your breath, so quiet you didn’t even know if he caught it.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, debating between snapping, changing the subject or apologizing himself. He didn’t do any of those, settling by glaring at you while trying to find the right answers. Too much to both of your disappointment, things weren’t that easy, and you knew beforehand that this fog in between was thicker than it would seem from afar.
It went without saying how many times the blurred lines made you hesitate, and how many times you were completely in the dark on what to do. And it was that same reasoning that made him so afraid.
"It's not—" He started, but cut himself, words failing him for a second. "It's not you."
"I know." That was all you could give him as a reply, the acknowledgement of how this ran bigger than you. But knowing didn’t make it better, and now things were too weird to pretend it did.
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." You spoke again, offering a clean closing to the topic. He didn’t take it.
"I want to. Why would I be with you if I didn’t?"
"Because I'm cute and I make you laugh?"
"All you do is embarrass me."
"Then pity it is."
His body turned to you, completely facing you this time. The sky was already dark blue, but those indigo eyes still shone brighter than any star above, annoyed, yes, but also helplessly in love, more devoted than the most loyal of fallowers. And just that was enough to make your heart skip a beat.
"Are you serious right now? Do you seriously think I would even waste a second of my time on someone I 'pity'?" He leaned closer, as if trying to make a point, crossing the space he placed before. "I am with you because I care, and I will spell it to you as many times as I need."
The tip of your ears must have been a deeper shade now— you were sure of that. But that didn’t stop you from doubling up, if anything, it just made the burn inside come out of the depths of your chest. Awfully so, the way only he could do.
"Then you could try actually acting like it instead of running away at the first sign of affection."
He sneered. "Oh, really? How rich of you, taking into account you were the one shutting me off at the very start."
"Maybe if you weren't so annoying I wouldn't!"
More silence. However, this time, none of you turned away, instead you squinted your eyes, and he mimicked the action, able to see your own reflection in your irises. You could practically count his eyelashes by how close he was, red eyeliner making them stand out even more... with that porcelain skin that was, oh so soft to touch.
Yet, to your surprise, you were not the one to initiate the touch this time, lips on you before you could even react. Surprisingly tender, maybe even more than he had the right to be in this situation, melting every doubt and argument you had to say.
Because god, if he didn’t make it hard, always so sharp where he was nothing but soft to you. From every single angle he took, and for every breath that got stuck in your throat.
He loves you. Terrifyingly so, but he does.
And this time, when your hand found his in the middle of that heat, he didn’t pull away.