want to touch you so much, Gloam.” He let out a low rumble at my whispered words. “But it… It feels wrong when you’re like this. You’re enslaved.” Not by you, he wrote immediately. I didn’t want to risk Mary waking up, so I grabbed the other pencil and shakily wrote back, It still feels wrong. It isn’t wrong. I want you, Adam. I want you to touch me. Please.
