[trigger warning]

You’ve always swung between two extremes.

Wanting to be praised like you’re something precious. Wanting to be used like you’re nothing at all.

It started young — when love didn’t feel steady. When approval came in small, unpredictable doses. When punishment didn’t always make sense. You learned to chase validation. You learned to brace for it to disappear.

Somewhere along the way, the wanting twisted. You started craving being seen and being reduced in the same breath. Craving hands on you and hating yourself for it after. Craving someone to tell you you’re good — or to tell you you’re filthy — as long as they were looking at you when they said it.

People never stayed long. They’d sense that hunger in you and decide it was all you were. Like you were just a kink. Just a phase. Just something to indulge in and then walk away from.

Until Megumi.

He kisses you because he wants to. Not to move things further. Not to push you onto your back. Just because your mouth is there and he cares about you.

He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t test your boundaries. He doesn’t treat your body like it’s the end goal.

Your head rests on his chest, your hands tucked under yourself while his fingers move slowly through your hair. Steady. Absentminded. Gentle in a way that doesn’t feel performative.

And the strangest part?

Even if you never have sex. Even if he never takes your clothes off. Even if it never becomes the messy, desperate thing you’ve convinced yourself is inevitable—

Megumi would still stay.

He’d still kiss you. Still hold you. Still look at you like you’re something worth keeping.

And for the first time, wanting doesn’t feel dirty.

It just feels human.