You never meant to do it. You swore to yourself, time and time again, that you would never touch anyone—no matter what. Your touch aversion was a towering wall around you, impenetrable, untouchable. But he… he pushed you too far.

He approached you in the middle of the schoolyard, right in front of everyone, that arrogant smile on his face fueling the fire in your chest. He said something—you can’t even remember what. Maybe it was about you, your past, your fear. It didn’t matter. Suddenly, without thinking, your hand shot up...

And you slapped him.

The sound rang out—loud, yet somehow silent. Your hand stung, and your chest heaved wildly. Your friends gasped. Some shouted your name. Some froze.

But him?

He didn’t move.

He just stood there, frozen, as if time had stopped with your hand on his cheek. Slowly, he lifted his fingers and touched the spot where you hit him. His eyes widened like a child seeing snow for the first time. Then…

He smiled. A foolish, dreamy, utterly ridiculous smile.

And said, “I can’t believe it… you touched me.”