Archive of Our Own

Simon looks at me with a weird expression— it looks almost pained, but that's not the right word.

Then he snorts at my joke.

Snorts.

I blink from where I sit next to him on the bed, a broad smile suddenly taking over my entire face. "Did you just laugh?!" I gasp dramatically.

Suddenly Simon's face sharpens and a look of panic briefly flashes in his eyes as he ticks his face to fully view mine. It leaves just as quickly, though, when he sees my expression, and instead he rolls his eyes and drops his gaze back to the book held in one hand above him as he lays next to me. "No," he snaps.

My grin only widens. "Oh yes you did. You soooo did!" I tease. I've been sitting and, what my students would've called, "yapping" criss-cross-applesauce at Simon's hip for who knows how long. Now I twist to my hands and knees so I can grin at Simon's scowl.

"No I didn't. That was a snort, Ryland. At best."

I waggle my eyebrows even though Simon's not looking at me. "A snort still cooouuunts!" I sing.

"No, it doesn't," Simon growls into his book, but there's no actual malice in the rattle. "A snort is just— Like, pushing out air," he huffs. "A laugh is like, you know…"

Simon makes a sound that seems to be trying for a "ha ha ha!", but really just comes out as three pained-sounding wheezes. It's horrendous.

My eyebrows raise all the way up and I put a hand over my mouth in horrified-astonished-highly-amused.

"What?" Simon snaps.

"You… You don't know how to laugh," I finally manage, a smile nearly wider than my face crinkling my eyes. At this rate I'm going to end up with wrinkles early, but oh. My god.

Simon blinks defensively. "What— Yes I do! Everyone knows how to fucking laugh!"

Speaking of, I'm already giggling. "Oh my god— Wait, wait, do it again." My cheeks are starting to hurt.

He looks at me dubiously for a moment before finally letting out the most unenthusiastic, monotone, pained, "Hahahaha."

I suddenly begin to bark and wheeze, clutching my stomach as I desperately gasp for air. I can hear Simon muttering curses and insults under his breath as I fight to regain control, but when I finally do, wiping the tears from my eyes, Simon's head is dipped trying to hide a smile.

My insides to a little loop-de-loop of joy.

I try to do a little more deep breathing to catch my breath for a moment when an idea suddenly pops into my mind. A mischievous grin curls onto my face. "Wait. Simon."

Simon glances back up at me, and by this time he's gotten his face under control. Dang. "What," he spits.

"I know how you can learn how to laugh."

At that, Simon snorts loudly. "You know how fucking ominous that sounds Ryland?" He scoffs. "What, gonna medically stimulate my diaphragm or something?"

"Medically? No. Stimulate? Yes," I grin, starting to reach for him. "Can I touch you?"

Simon's eyes suddenly widen, and his grip tightens around the book in his hands. Shoot. Remember— slow, Ryland. "Wh- What—"

"It's not anything bad, I promise!" I quickly interject, stopping my movements to sit back on my haunches and hold both my hands up. "It's not going to hurt or anything—" a terrible thought suddenly occurs to me, "—oh my god or be sexual!!! Oh my god it totally sounded like that didn't it oh my god, Simon—"

"Ry, it's fine," Simon says.

I blink.

Because… from the way Simon says it, from the way his eyes look open instead of scared, from the way a smile curls his lips into a soft upward line… it does seem fine.

This might the first time that Simon has simply brushed off what I've been calling my Incidents (verbal/physical misunderstandings) instead of turning into Roommate of Rage™ or devolving into a shaking ball of tears and pleas. (God, I hate myself a little more every time it ends up being one of the latter, which it most always does.)

This is the first time he's taken my words at face value, I think. Or maybe my intentions.

It makes something in my heart squeeze.

It makes something in my gut release.

"O-Okay." I blink away the darn tears threatening to make their (daily, apparently) appearance. Simon huffs amusedly at my wateriness, which reminds me of the task at hand. "Uh, can I touch you then?"

Something nearly embarrassed crosses Simon's face before he rolls his eyes, as if what he said before was answer enough. Still, he says, "Yes, Ryland. Stars, you're so goddamn weird."

A devious smile slides back onto my face as I inch forward. Simon looks slightly disturbed, but doesn't move away. He does give a microscopic flinch as I situate my hands on his waist, but he still seems okay, so I ignore it. Instead, I smirk down at him as I slide my hands up to rest just below his armpits, his eyes growing wider all the while.

Slowly, at first, I wiggle my fingers a little. Simon jerks. "What the hell are you doing?" he asks, thankfully with mostly confusion and an expected amount of panic rather than actual terror.

I grin at him devilishly. "Tickling you," I say. Then, without the teasing, "Want me to stop?"

Simon scoffs, looking slightly defensive. "I'm able to handle tickling, Ryland, it doesn't even hurt or anything. And, you barely even started."

I cock my head with a smile. "Never said you couldn't," I titter. Then, "Want me to stop? Yes or no."

"fucking— No! I don't need you to stop!!"

Simon's exasperated. It makes me giggle as I wiggle my fingers anew, using slightly more pressure this time. Unfortunately, Simon's prepared this go-around, and the only reaction I get is a twitch of his brow as he scowls at me. So I upscale.

I slide my hands into his armpits proper and promptly tickle my little heart out.

Finally, Simon barks out a laugh that surprises both of us, me enough to momentarily stop to stare at him.

Not for long, though.

Simon screeches as I begin again with even more vigor, his halting, deep, barking laughter rewarding my efforts. At this point I'm laughing, too, and my face starts to ache with how big I'm smiling.

"Ry-Ryland!" Simon gasps between guffaws, "R-Ryland stop!"

He laughs the words, and there's obviously no meaning behind the plea, but a small bout of disappointment rolls through me. It's super important that I keep strictly to my rules if I want to continue to make progress. Simon needs to know I'll be consistent. He needs to know I'm safe.

I stop immediately, taking my hands fully off of him.

Simon blinks up at me for a moment, his smile fading, before he lets out a loud, petulant groan. "Trees, you and your goddamn rules!!! I didn't fucking mean it, obviously." Strangely, he looks away as he finishes, "K-Keep going. Uh, please."

That last part sounded iffy. My eyebrows furrow in concern as I ask, "Simon, are you sure? That didn't sound… Just because I'm enjoying it doesn't mean you have to consent to it." I smile softly. "Remember; I'm not an angel or some other divine being— we're equals, you don't owe me anything, and you have the right to say no to anything that makes you uncomfortable or unhappy, yeah?"

Simon's still looking away, but I can see his eyes have gotten a little squinty with an expression of… fondness?, a little smile penetrating his sharp features. He doesn't seem tense at all, either. He glances up again, but doesn't meet my eyes as he says, "Uh, I know. Thanks. It's not that. I— I meant what I said. It just feels…" he gnaws gently at his lip in thought, his eyebrows furrowing, "uh, I guess… nice. Like, uh, not the tickling, necessarily, but like, what goes with it, if that makes any sense? Not that I don't like the tickling. I do."

He moves to sit up and I scoot back a little to make room. He continues. "Uh, I guess like… uh, the laughing feels nice. I don't remember the last time I laughed. Like, actually laughed." He huffs, his lips turning up into such a soft smile. I can't help but mimic it with the warmth that blooms in my chest.

"And… uh—… well—" he turns his face away and down again, his hair curtaining his expression. I'm just barely able to make out a red tint seeping up his neck, though. "Uh, this— this is probably stupid, like really fucking stupid, and you probably don't want to do this, like, ever…" Simon swallows as he pauses, and I notice his hand is curled into a fist next to where he'd set aside his book. "…But… uh… the, uh—… the touch feels really nice," he all but whispers. "Like, it's— it doesn't hurt or anything."

I'm silent in shock for too long, because Simon suddenly whips his head up in a panic, that terrible frightened look suddenly back in his deep coco eyes. He chokes out with a bit of a delirious laugh, "I'm— I'm sorry, that's probably like really fucking weird for me to say!" He fists a hand in his hair in a way that looks painful. "I-I'm so sorry, I'll—"

"Hey," I soothe quickly, "Simon, it's okay, I promise. You don't have anything to apologize for. You're okay." Time to whip out the good ol' list. "Simon, did you break any of the rules?"

'The rules' are guidelines for both of us that we've had to implement over the time of Simon's stay on Erid for the sake of physical and mental health. (Mostly his, but, admittedly, some for mine, as well.)

1. Don't touch the other person without getting explicit yes or no consent.

2. Don't lie/hide things, especially injuries.

3. You must eat at least 2,000 calories and drink at least 124 oz of water per day (the recommended amount for an adult male) even if you "feel unworthy" or are "just about to make a breakthrough".

And,

4. Please don't physically harm anyone, especially if it's yourself.

Simon stills for a moment, contemplating his answer with furrowed brows. Finally, he rasps, "Uh, I don't— I don't think so."

"Righty-o!" I confirm, beaming and holding back the urge to clap for emphasis. "Then you don't have anything to be sorry for."

Simon huffs, and it seems halfway between disbelief and surrender. He glances up at me through his dark locks. "But… I made you uncomfortable."

"Oh! No," I correct quickly, rubbing the back of my neck as I let out a bit of an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry. I was just surprised. You've never expressed, uh… Want for touch before."

"…Oh."

"Do you, uh…" I stutter as I feel a gosh-darn blush begins to creep into my cheeks, "You really want it?"

Simon nods, but— "It's okay, you don't have to touch me," he whispers, lowering his gaze again with something close to quiet resignation, "I understand." He's… taking my awkwardness as rejection. "I know I'm… disgusting. I'm a monster. It's fine. I wouldn't want to touch me, either."

No! I scramble to backtrack. "No! No no no! I wasn't hesitant because I didn't want to touch you!" I exclaim frantically. "Are you kidding— I've been dying to give you a hug ever since you showed up here! I haven't had human contact in— gosh, at least half a decade. The eridians are great but— it's not the same." Even if Rocky and I could touch it wouldn't be the same. Humans need human contact, unfortunately. "It's just that you were— well, you reacted extremely negatively to any touch I tried when we first met, so I've been trying really really hard to be careful. So, I'm just surprised, I guess. Pleasantly! But— surprised."

Simon has slowly lifted his head again during my rambling, and looks up at me with those sad, terribly soft chocolate eyes. "…But what about my mutations?"

Right. He'd mentioned that, too.

My eyes scan once again over the jagged teeth taking up almost all of Simon's left cheek, the fin-like ear on the same side, his one blood-red eye with a slitted, animalistic pupil, the gills breaking up his neck, and the fingernails on his hand that are more claw than nail. I'm sure there are more, too, but he hasn't really let me examine him yet.

My smile turns bittersweet. "Simon, there's nothing wrong with you having mutations. In the first place, they aren't your fault, and in the second they're…" I turn my head to the side a little in embarrassment, looking away as my face begins, once more, to warm. "I actually find them really cool. Not just fascinating— because yes holy heck I've been absolutely dying to study them— but they actually look…" I glance back up to him sheepishly. "I dunno… they make you look a little badass I guess," I finish shakily, trying desperately to hide the heat I can feel consuming my face oh my god—

Simon barks out another laugh. My head whips up in surprise, and he grins at me, his eyes glinting with a look equal measures mischievous and… fond??? "Didn't know you could swear."

I balk, offended, and the heat on my skin grows. "I can swear!!!" I sputter. "It's just—"

"Easy, Ry, it's called a joke," Simon grins, and then grins wider at the face I make in response. A moment later, though, he lets his smile drop into something more sincere. "Uh, t-thanks, by the way. Dunno if I can, uh, really believe you quite yet but…" He looks into my eyes as his voice goes even softer. "Means a lot."

I am NOT crying I'M NOT CRYING I'M NOT CRYING I'M NOT CRYING— "Of course!" I sniff, and see Simon's lips twitch at my tears yet again. I spend a second fighting for my life against the water pooling in my eyes before I suddenly remember what started all of this. "So, do you, uh…" I hesitate, "do you still want want touch? Like, now?"

Simon blinks, and suddenly red rushes to his face. "Uh," he stutters, eyes darting everywhere but mine, "I-I mean, if you want. If—… If you're sure…"

I cock my head at him, giving a soft, amused huff. "Simon, you know I need a yes or no answer," I chastise.

I pause, though, as he hesitates, his lips forming several answers before vetoing all of them. "Hey," I say softly, calling those deep eyes to meet mine. "I promise I'll go slow, okay?" I smile. "And I'll narrate everything I'll do before I do it. And, of course, whenever you say stop I'll stop. Immediately. No questions asked."

Simon hesitates again, dropping his head as his shoulders hike.

I'm instantly disappointed, but hell if I'll put my wants before Simon's comfort. I sigh internally, but try hard to keep my voice positive and light. "Remember, you can say n—"

"Yes. I say yes. Y-You can touch me. Please."

My breath catches in my throat. The words are barely whispered loud enough for me to hear and are coated in a deep rasp. He sounds so completely, utterly raw. But… maybe in a good way. Like he finally trust me enough to… to tell me what he really wants, even though he's terrified I'm just going to tear it away from him in the most painful way possible.

My face breaks into a blinding smile as my heart soars and I blink rapidly, trying to process the sudden shift. "Uh, great! Yay!" Oof. I immediately cringe, then I clear my throat awkwardly. He's looking at me again, so I make sure to catch his eyes as I softly ask, "Is there anywhere you want me to start?"

He considers for a moment before he finally murmurs, "…Um, Maybe just my hand, first." He says it hesitantly, a pleading look in his eyes.

"Of course!!" I agree immediately, reaching out one of mine. He tenses more and more the closer I get, so I make sure to slow my movements to a crawl before I finally touch the knuckles of his calloused skin.

Again I get a tiny jolt, but, other than that, wide eyes, and rapid breath, he seems to be doing amaze amaze amaze—! That is, in comparison the last time we touched, but that's a biiit of a low bar… Point is— Simon isn't pulling away, or growling, or biting me, or punching me in the face!! This is great!!!

Encouraged, I very slowly slide my hand further over his, and I hear him swallow as I smoothly dip mine under, gently uncurling his fingers so I can slide my hand into his.

I glance up to see Simon totally stiff (not that I couldn't tell from how he was holding his hand), eyes wide and locked onto mine. Suddenly, his breath stutters, and he closes his eyes tight as he forces his shallow intakes and outtakes under control. "Doin' okay, bud?" I ask gently, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles, which I see sends him into a full body shiver.

His eyes pop open.

"What the fuck was that?!" He gasps, snatching his hand to his chest in panic as his breathing suddenly picks up exponentially.

I immediately move back a little to give him space, putting my hands up even as an amused huff leaves my lips. "Easy, buddy," I chuckle. "The shivering? That's normal." He looks up at me incredulously. I laugh. "Honest!! I think it's called… frisson. It's your body's response to positive stimuli. Usually physical, like rubbing your hand." I smile. He seems to be slowly believing me, lowering his hand a little and un-tensing. "It's normal, I promise."

He's still hesitating. Hmm…

I blink, a brilliant idea coming to mind.

"You can try it on me, if you want," I offer. He glances up at me in surprise.

Okay, yes, it may be just the teensiest bit self-serving, but it's also helping Simon!!! Honest to god I would never do it if it wasn't, but it just so happens that it helps both of us! Yay! Two birds with one Rocky or whatever!

"Uh, y-yeah, okay," Simon says hesitantly. He hesitates a moment more, but then begins to reach out an uncertain hand. "How do I…"

My face lights up at his acceptance. "Oh! I usually get tingles if someone scratches the back of my neck," I beam, pointing there. Then falter, as Simon suddenly grins incredulously.

"Tingles?"

A furious blush overtakes my face. "Wh-They're also called tingles!!"

"Mmhmm," Simon hums noncommittally, still grinning. But then a nervous expression replaces the previous. "But, uh, a-are you sure you want me touching your neck?"

Flashes of one of the first and last time I'd touched Simon forces itself into my thoughts—

Pressed against a wall, large calloused hand around my throat, low growl in my ear, and too tight too tight PLEASE YOU'RE MURDERING ME I can't BREATHE—

I blink hard, banishing what is long past.

We've made so much progress since then! Evidence? See: right now!! Or the last ten minutes! Simon let me tickle him for god's sake!

I let out a rush of air, then steel myself and meet Simon's eyes. "I trust you."

I've said it before. A few times, in fact, so by this point Simon knows there's no use in arguing. He huffs, looking to the side for a moment before suddenly snapping his head back to look into my eyes with a soft, resolute expression. "Um, o-okay. If you're sure…"

"I'm sure, Simon."

He lets out a breath, then— "Fine. Then scoot closer, I can't reach."

My eyes widen in surprise, but then a happy smile slides onto my face as I obey. I stare at him expectantly as his hand hovers near me, before finally beginning to creep toward my neck. I'm on his right side, so I tilt my head to my right and down a little to allow for easy access, and close my eyes. I know there's a stupid smile on my face all the while, but sue me for being happy I get human contact for the first time in years!!!

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, warm, calloused, slightly pokey fingers touch down on the left side of my neck. I suck in a quick breath as my eyes pop open— the barely-touch is already sending electrical sparks under skin. Simon curses, and the fingers are gone in an instant. NO—

My head jerks up. "S-sorry, I'm okay. You didn't hurt me, I promise."

Simon furrows his brows in worry. "Are you—"

"I'm sure."

Maybe I was being a little impatient, but my skin was screaming at me to bring back the contact at all costs. Simon warily raises his hand again, and I tilt my head the same way, using all my willpower to keep myself from moving into it when skin finally brushes mine once more.

And then he rests his whole hand against the side of my neck and god—

Ryland's eyes flutter shut again the moment my shaky hand rests on his neck the second time, and the man's body sags, a rush of air suddenly pouring out of his lungs. I hesitate, but the reaction didn't seem… unhappy. It… It didn't seem pained, either. Maybe… relief?

(Which seems impossible. This is me touching him. But…)

I steel my nerve and ever so slowly begin inching my hand toward the back of his neck where Ryland had mentioned. He twitches a little as I situate my hand, cupping the back of it. His breathing is speeding up, which only goes to burrow the guilt in the pit of my gut a little deeper, but I can't exactly back out now. And he said I wasn't hurting him, so…

Finally I begin— being very careful not to nick the delicate skin with my claws— to scratch the back of Ryland's neck.

I jolt as he practically keens. At the same time, a full-body shiver rattles him and he goes even more boneless than before, slumping where he sits. I blink, but I'm too startled and worried to think to stop my ministrations.

Okay, so the shivering is normal, but is it some kind of precursor to complete incapacitation!? Did I hit some kind of nerve!? I had never heard of this kind of attack… Maybe no one from my universe remembered it from before the Rapture? Maybe that's why Eden and the COI didn't use it?

Suddenly, I remember the man still slumped in front of me, and I immediately jerk my hand away from him. He makes an… annoyed?? sound, and blinks blearily as he raises his head. "Wha…? Why'd—"

"What the hell was that?" I ask a little shortly. Sue me, I'm a little freaked out!

Ryland blinks again, seemingly trying to clear whatever fog had entered his mind and moving the glasses that had slipped to his chin back up to his nose. "Uh…" he starts, eyes still a little half-lidded and speech a little slurred, "You mean the shiver? I already told you, it's—"

I exhale sharply, annoyance creeping into my tone as I exclaim, "The— slumping forward! It looked like you were completely incapacitated! Like your body just— shut off! Is there a nerve back there that—"

"Oh! Uh, no no no," Ryland interrupts with an awkward chuckle, looking away as his face goes red,for some reason. "I'm just… uh…"

But then he looks down at his knees, suddenly more solemn than I've maybe ever seen him. I still, eyes going wide as he sighs.

"I just… I haven't seen another human in, jeez, probably at least half a decade…" he huffs with a bittersweet smile, one hand fisting the fabric of his pants, "I guess I'm just… a little touch-starved, is all," he whispers.

I blink again.

Touch starved? Like… hungry for… touch?

The idea seems a little absurd in my head. Stars above, I'd spent so many nights in that COI cell just wishing that people would stop touching me— shoving me more roughly than necessary whenever I'd needed to be moved, other prisoners poking at me through the bars and waking me up with a hand clenched tight around my throat, cackling as I woke up gasping for air.

I'd had to show them just how I'd earned my nickname those times.

I couldn't really imagine starving for touch. (I could. Gentle hands carding through my hair, her laugh delicate and light and un-pained. Her voice whispering my name at night, close and soft and loving. It was right. It was so, so good. And then it was gone. I missed it every day. I missed her.)

From the look on Ryland's face, though… I believed him.

"Being touch starved makes you… what, like, weak when you get it, then?" Stars I sound stupid, but I can't really think of any other way to describe it.

Ryland chuckles, face still ducked. "Uh, yeah pretty much. Basically, I've been so long without it that any kind of touch just kinda… fries my brain." He looks up, and for some reason his eyes are apologetic. "N-Not in a bad way, but…"

"That won't happen to me, though, right?" I ask. I didn't get the inkling that I would happen when he'd touched my hand, even if it did feel kind of nice, and from context I sort of got that it would only happen if I was craving touch really badly, but I wanted to check anyway.

"I don't think so," Ryland says contemplatively. "Unless you think you're—"

I shake my head firmly, but then almost immediately regrets it, swearing internally.

That means I actually have to do it, no pulling away this time.

"Good," I say curtly before I can talk myself out of it. "Then I'm, uh, ready to, uh…"

But my throat is suddenly bone dry, words lodging themselves there painfully.

Stars, I'm pathetic.

I really should have expected it when that angel of a man looks at me and graciously finishes, "…Try again?"

Fear, my old friend, raises her head, but I swallow and nod.

"Great!" Ryland beams, his eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. (It surprises me every time.) But then his eyes duck away from mine and his voice wavers as he murmurs, "Would you… Would you mind if I sat next to you?" A second after he tacks on hurriedly, with wide eyes, "I-I won't touch you except for your hand, I promise! I'd just… I'd be a little more comfortable for me…" he says the last part apologetically, shoulders caving a little.

I blink. I know it shouldn't shock me by now, but… well, I literally don't think I can remember the last time someone asked me if they could do something before doing it, let alone apologetically. "O-Of course," I say.

Ryland lights up with a, "Great!" and shimmies over to sit next to me. When he's settled he asks, "Ready?"

No.

"Yes."

"Alright, perfect! I'm going to move my hand over to yours, now."

I brace myself, muscles tensing as Ryland inches his hand over to mine.

"I'm going to hold it now."

Despite my best efforts, I still flinch when Ryland gently grasps it. My whole hand tingles with the contact.

It's wonderful.

It's awful.

He flicks his kind eyes to mine and softly questions, "Doing oka—?"

"'M fine," I grunt a little shorter than I mean to, but my heart is about to beat out of my chest and I just want Ryland to get on with it.

He does the opposite of what I deserve, as always, and smiles softly. "Okay. I'm going to rub it now."

Shit. I tense further and try to swallow the feeling that's creeping up my neck. Just as last time, Ryland begins rubbing gently (always gentle) over my rough knuckles, sending pleasant (?) sparks under my skin.

I feel shame write in my gut when I can't choke down the hitch in my breath. "'M good," I whisper before Ryland can ask. He smiles up at me gently and nods.

"Alright, can I flip it over so I can rub your palm?"

I press my tongue hard to the roof of my mouth, and then let out a shaky breath. "Y-yes."

Ryland's eyes soften, because of course they do. "Okay."

He gently turns my hand over, and I have to make an effort not to curl it into a fist to protect the soft skin now laid out, vulnerable.

That would defeat the whole point. The whole point is to be vulnerable.

And isn't that terrifying?

What happened the last time you were vulnerable, Butcher?

Ryland slowly slides his thumb into my palm, and I swallow thickly and squeeze my eyes shut as he begins to rub small circles into it.

Suddenly, my body feels a strange anticipation, and then a second later a shiver shudders from the top of my head to my toes.

My eyes fly open as I gasp, and I can't keep my hand from jerking into a half-fist.

"Simon?"

Ryland's words are urgent but calm, fixing me with focused azure eyes. "You're okay. It's normal, remember? You're—"

"I'm good, I'm good."

I swallow.

I breathe like he taught me.

In,

two, three, four…

…

Out,

two, three, four…

…

"…I'm good."

Ryland smiles tenderly. "Do you wanna keep—"

"Keep going."

Ryland blinks, but after a moment simply murmurs, "Okay, Simon. I'm going to rub your palm a little more, and then can I rub your wrist?"

My wrist sounds terrifying. "Yes."

So Ryland begins again, gently prodding my fingers to uncurl, and I comply.

I'm right— it is terrifying. And so is when he caresses the inside of my arm, and then eventually wraps his own around my bicep, and then finally snuggles close and leans his head on it.

It's also the best thing I've ever felt.

It's like fire, but… pleasant. My skin feels like tiny stars are exploding under it whenever there's a new point of contact, and then it fades into a warm buzzing that feels… feels just—

I know by now Ryland refuses to take anything from me, but what will I have to give too feel this again? My obedience? My body? Ryland has been wanting to "study" for a while, surely I can tempt him with that.

As I stare down at the wild mess of golden locks resting against my arm I realize with a vague horror I'll do anything to feel this again. I'll endure whatever torture required to feel the gentle caress of scar-less hands.

It's dangerous. It's so, so dangerous.

Ryland shifts against me, and rubs the pad of this thumb over the inside of my arm for a moment before settling down again. My skin is a holy kind of warm from the touch.

It's unbelievably dangerous.

But somehow, I can't bring myself to care.

I'm resting. AGAINST SIMON.

I will never forget this moment!!!!

(Oh, and Rocky owes me a new skirt. I'm definitely getting an expensive one.)