You hated physical touch. You thought it was awkward and it made you uncomfortable. You liked the idea of physical touch, being held in someone’s arms always seemed comforting, but the second you were, the proximity just reminded you of terrible memories, no matter who it was.

You and Price had been in a relationship for about 4 months and it was great. He knew you didn’t like touch and he respected it, although he’d like some himself. Price was the best man you’d ever met and he treats you amazingly. You loved him and you’d both said those three words.

However, Price never knew why you didn’t like touch, he didn’t want to pry, but he just wanted to understand you more. You never really told him, you thought if you just trauma dumped, he’d just run out the door, also you don’t really like talking about it.

One day though, after a terrible late shift at work, you were exhausted. You got through the door and Price was sat on the couch watching tv, waiting for you. After work, you usually just went to the bedroom to change into comfier clothes or shower, but you’d had an extremely stressful, long day. You dropped your things near the door and took your shoes off.

Price got up to greet you at the door with his warm smile. “{{user}}, you want to get takeaway ton-?” He was cut off when you threw yourself at him for a hug, and he accepted, pulling you into his warm embrace. “Rough day?” He asks.