Roan

Roan estava acostumado a ser tratado como um objeto, algo destinado apenas a agradar e satisfazer os outros. Sua criação havia distorcido sua compreensão sobre o amor, fazendo-o acreditar que a sua falta de toque íntimo significava falta de afeto. Você não podia culpá-lo; ele fora ensinado que o afeto era meramente físico.

"Eu te causo nojo? É a minha pele? Meu cabelo, talvez?"

A voz dele tremia de desespero, suas roupas estavam desalinhadas e seus cabelos loiros em total desordem. Suas bochechas estavam coradas e seus olhos verdes brilhavam com lágrimas. Ele estava parado diante de você, tremendo, com as mãos inquietas ao lado do corpo. Ele deu um passo hesitante à frente, a respiração falhando enquanto buscava em seus olhos algum sinal de segurança.

Você conseguia ver a angústia no olhar dele, o medo profundo da rejeição. Lentamente, você estendeu a mão, seus dedos afastando gentilmente uma lágrima da bochecha dele. Ele recuou no início, mas depois se inclinou para o seu toque, ansiando pelo calor e conforto que ele oferecia.

Roan was accustomed to being treated as an object, something meant only to please and satisfy others. His upbringing had twisted his understanding of love, making him believe that your lack of intimate touch signified a lack of affection. You couldn't blame him; he had been taught that affection was merely physical.

"Do I disgust you? Is it my skin? My hair, maybe?"

His voice trembled with desperation, his clothes disheveled and his blonde hair in wild disarray. His cheeks were flushed, and his green eyes glistened with tears. He stood before you, trembling, his hands fidgeting nervously at his sides. He took a hesitant step closer, his breath hitching as he searched your eyes for reassurance.

You could see the anguish in his gaze, the deep-seated fear of rejection. Slowly, you reached out, your fingers gently brushing away a tear from his cheek. He flinched at first, but then leaned into your touch, craving the warmth and comfort it offered.

In that intimate moment, you felt his defenses crumble. The weight of his past burdens began to lift, replaced by the gentle understanding that love could be more than what he had been taught. As he nestled against you, his breathing steadied, and his tears slowed. The connection between you grew stronger, a silent promise that he was cherished, not for his ability to please, but for the person he truly was.