T’chai’s hand twitches on the furs, and I reach for it out of habit. The moment I do, I feel…strange. His touch doesn’t feel dear to me; it’s off-putting. I notice the irritating rasp of calluses and how he’s too warm. His scent bothers me. In fact, all of it bothers me. Which is odd. It’s kind of like touching velvet the wrong way. It’s not bad, just…unpleasant. I want to put down his hand, but I don’t.
