[ Irony upon irony. He was loved and loved in return up until it was twisted and turned into misery. He learned early on that love was not enough. If he's hesitant it's because he knows what it means to lose it, to see it twisted. Knows he was partially to blame. That kind of misery isn't something he ever wants to impart on another. Keeping to himself. Accepting affection. Hesitant to reciprocate it. It was his natural course for so long, it still takes him time to return it. ]
What was your thing?
[ He runs his fingers through the ends of his hair, ignoring the very real urge to brush it. ]
no subject
What was your thing?
[ He runs his fingers through the ends of his hair, ignoring the very real urge to brush it. ]