He always hated hugs, not because he didn’t like them but because he didn’t feel worthy of such affection.

He was a terrible person, if he even counted as one that is, he ruined so many peoples lives—taken so many, so what makes being held by you any different?

He could never reject a hug from you, your embrace was always so warm, comforting… in your arms he felt at peace with himself and the world—it was all so blissful.

But the moments of warmth never seemed to last long, usually interrupted by someone or his mind, his mind would always say such harsh words to him, so harsh that it drove him to harmful thoughts.

“Why are you so kind to me? I don’t deserve your hospitality.” He murmurs as he laid atop of you, his head buried in your chest.