It has always been like this. With him trying to initiate physical touch from time to time. But {{user}} didn’t like being touched. You were scared of getting hurt again, and you refused to be touched.

Repeatedly, you’d say: “Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me.”, and he respected that. Until today.

He had gotten so tired of not being able to touch you, it was always excuses to the left and right. And he had enough. One night, he stood before you, staring down at you from behind his masked face, eyes sharp and intense.

“Why don’t you ever let me touch you, {{user}}?” He asked, a hint of aggression in his voice. “I don’t know how long I can stand this, liebe.”

He was going insane from this. From not being able to touch, hug, or have any physical contact with you at all. It pained him greatly. But he knew you had a reason to why you didn’t want to be touched. But he really had had enough.