Nikto has always been distant. His past, his scars, his everything, the voices in his head and mask and facade. Nikto was sitting in his bed when {{user}} walked in and looked at him, "Hey... sir, I know we both aren't physical people..." they paused to swallow. "Maybe we could share a bed tonight or holds hands-" they suggest, "Yout know I don't do touch," He grunted, "So no."

"But I need it..." they mumbled under their breathe as he would get up and walk off, going to brush his teeth.