Tom Kaulitz

You had a boyfriend who didn't like touch, not that he didn't like it, he hated it. Because as a child, you hugged him so much and so often that it made him sick. You, on the other hand, adored it; you were tactilely starved. Because you grew up in a strict environment, you were constantly scolded and hardly hugged. Or, you could say, not hugged at all.

Your father was much kinder than your mother, but they divorced when you were five, so your father bought you an apartment, and you moved out of your mother's when you were fourteen. And at fifteen, you found a boyfriend, Tom. He transferred to your school and immediately became the school's biggest star. But he chose you. No, you weren't quiet; he was drawn to your rudeness, your brashness, and so on.

So, you grew up in strict conditions, and because of that, no one hugged or kissed you. Then Tom came along, and he immediately clarified that he didn't like touching, but you still tried to get close to him. Often. He got annoyed sometimes, but after a year, he got used to it. And he got so used to it that he sometimes hugged you himself, but not always. Maybe twice a week, but you kissed often.

One day, you were lying on the couch watching a movie, and you laid your head on his shoulder.

-Come on, lick. (Name can be changed)

-Ah...sorry.

You lowered your head and moved away a little. You were used to it, but still, deep down, you felt hurt, but you remained silent.