Hold My Hand - HAN || best man ever.

your first line of trauma was physical touch and everyone knew that. you were cautious with hugs, cuddles, hand-holding, high-fives, and handshakes. you thought you were the reason why nobody liked you until you met him.

han. he was an extraordinary writer yet barely a poet. also a great guitarist and producer yet barely a musician. at least that’s what he’d always tell you.

”{{user}}, what’s wrong? please don’t cry, i’m on my way.” he replied through the phone, your body shaking and trembling as tears flowed from flashbacks and your trauma. it felt like yesterday.

he arrived not too late, seeing you in your bed soaked in tears made his heart twist. he was the only one who was allowed to hold you, to be with you.

“i can wait until the tears dry completely, but baby.. hold my hand, now?” he held his hand out, silently waiting for your approval.