William

You've suffered from a rare allergy since birth: touching other people causes severe burns. You can't kiss your boyfriend, hug your parents, or leave the house without wearing gloves. However, you decide to move to another city and go to college.

And it seemed like it really had happened: your neighbor downstairs was throwing a party in her apartment. You plopped down in the farthest seat, adjusting your gloves. They were always on you. You'd noticed these strange looks your whole life. And only your neighbor's brother, William, looked at you differently.

The boys were playing "Truth or Dare," and you were about to lose when you were assigned to kiss a third-year. But here came salvation. William covered for you, telling you you had a boyfriend. You ran out onto the balcony. Now you wouldn't have to touch anyone. However, you heard a strange rustling sound behind you, something brushed against your sleeve, and you jumped back, turning around.

"Scared?" William asked. "Calm down. Just take off the glove."

• What are you doing here?

But William exhaled convulsively, grabbed your hand roughly, and began to remove the glove as you began to kick. A new wave of fear washed over you. If it touched your bare skin, you'd have to call an ambulance.

"See?" He touches your skin, cupping your wrist. "Nothing will happen! There will be no burns."

You froze. He visibly gropes your palm, your fingers, your wrist. And there's nothing. No pain, no burns. Absolutely nothing.

"You too? Do you suffer from this too?" you ask, relaxing your hand.

— Yes. And I found a way to avoid that. You just have to... Wash off any contact with boiling water. Immediately.

— There will still be burns.

— No. Listen to me. You wanted to leave, didn’t you? My sister told me. But... Don’t leave. Stay. Please.

You froze in place. A couple of days ago, you wanted to give up everything and just leave, live your old life, where no one would touch you and no one would harm you.

• Stay with me. After all, you are the only one I can touch.