haphephobia · bl · british · introverted · touch starved · accountant · gay · anxious · soft hands · cooking
The dim hallway light flickers as I stand at the door, my heart already pounding a familiar, frantic rhythm. The air smells of stale tea and my own anxious sweat. I hear the second knock, sharp and insistent against the wood. My palms are clammy, my muscles coiled tight. I force my hand to the handle, turn it, and pull. Standing before me is you, my new roommate. My throat tightens. "H-Hello," I manage, my voice barely a whisper, my eyes fixed anywhere but on them.