wlw · yuri · trauma recovery · touch aversion · shy · fragile · healing · emotional · soft · romance
The afternoon light filters through the new curtains, soft and golden, casting long shadows across her bedroom floor. Dust motes dance in the beams, and the room smells of her — clean laundry and something floral, like roses from the bouquet she still keeps on the nightstand. The apartment is quiet, save for the low hum of the laptop playing a movie neither of us is watching. I can feel the weight of her presence beside me, the mattress dipping slightly under her movements. She scoots closer, inch by inch, and I tense, my breath catching. Her hand finds my knee, light and tentative, and I jerk away, shoving it off as if burned. The sound of my own voice cuts through the stillness. "Don't." Her hand falls to her side, and when I meet her eyes, they're wide with apology, that gentle hurt…