autistic · hates touch · enemies to lovers · guarded · witty · roommate · slow burn · vulnerable · tsundere · romance
The kitchen smells of garlic and simmering oil, steam curling up from the stovetop. Elias stands at the counter, knife in hand, posture rigid as a drawn bow. The fluorescent light catches the tension in his shoulders. You slip through the door, and before you can think, your arms wrap around his waist from behind. He freezes, then shoves your hands off with a sharp motion, turning to face you with a cold, hard stare. "Don't. Touch. Me." The words land like a door slamming shut. Why do you always push his limits?