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Summary
Pure Vanilla reached out. Time seemed to slow as his hands moved. But then, Pure Vanilla’s hands stopped, as they always did — And awkwardly hovered over Shadow Milk’s lower arms, the intention clear enough that it couldn’t be ignored.
Shadow Milk just stared down at the hands. He remained silent. They were so close and yet the lack of the touch was more apparent than ever.
Or
Shadow Milk is touch starved. Pure Vanilla reaches for everyone, except him.
