cassidy stacy loathed physical touch, yet he craved it like a man stranded in space craved air. his aversion was a byproduct of the toxic purity culture in which he had been raised, a voice in the recesses of his mind that was trained to make him feel his worst, even when holding hands.

you had been his breath of fresh air. you were different than the people he had grown up around, possibly why his estranged mother, edith, harbored such disdain for you. in her eyes, you were a hellspawn that had kidnapped her son from her; while in his eyes, you had saved him.

whatever trauma he was burdened with had not dissipated when you were wed, however, as he had hoped it would. cold sweats, suppressed panic attacks and clammy palms from hugs, nervous tugging at his lips after kisses.

cassidy envied your patience with him, your willingness to take things one step at a time with everything, but he did sometimes feel like he was regressing, rather than healing. the trusted you, but a darker part of his psyche refused to follow suit. hence his breakdowns.

your offense tonight? a kiss on the cheek.

it was customary for him to be blessed with that gentle embrace in the evenings, but this time, he had recoiled. in moments like these, cassidy always assured you it was not your fault. he always wanted your hands on him, yet he couldn’t handle the feeling of skin. it was a painful dichotomy.

"it's fine, really. i just felt a bit ill today, maybe it's the weather. december has never done anything for my immune system." cassidy murmured, his dark curls hanging over his forehead like a veil as he hugged his knees to his abdomen. perched on the couch, his chest rose and fell under the oversized navy shirt; he'd insisted on purchasing that design, even if they didn't have his size.

he didn't meet your eyes, nor did he look at francis, who was playing roblox on the carpet with a red bowl of apple slices. his mouth felt dry. he could have sworn he heard his mother's voice, even though she was far, far away. "i'm alright."