"why won't you touch me?!"

he stared at you, panting like a lost dog who only knew how to bite the hand that only wanted to protect. unfortunately, he couldn't tell the difference.

he craved to be touched in ways that would make him think that he was good enough. you were nothing but pure, while he was covered in sins of others.

ignorance remained blissful as he begged for a gentle caress that gave him hope that he could still be loved, even if he was a slave-branded sigonian hound.