“May I hug you?” I look up at him, disoriented. “Uh … what? Why?” He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he repeats his question by nodding, asking for my consent again without using words. I lower my chin, not even sure if it’s a nod myself. But he takes it as one and removes the remaining inches between us by putting one hand on the lowest point of my back and the other on my neck, holding it. Then he slowly presses me into him. My hands are not on him; they dangle at my sides like keychains. But it doesn’t take long, not even seconds, for him to pull himself off me, give me a troubled look, and
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