"You don't like me hugging you, do you?"
The question seemed to catch Malcolm by surprise. He turned away from the documentary they were watching for a final project in cognitive development to stare at her.
"What?"
"You have an aversion to me hugging you."
Malcolm's brow puckered and a mixture of different things flickered across his face. Debating what to tell me, Sorcha realized as he reached for the remote and shut off the documentary.
"I don't mind you hugging me." He set the remote down but didn't look at her. "Why do you think I do?"
"Because I saw your face in the mirror when I hugged you earlier. You seemed to check out after I hugged you."
He completely disassociated is what he did, Sorcha amended silently. His eyes got glassy, his face went blank, it was like he wasn't even here in the room with me.
"It's not because of you." His eyes dropped to his hands. "I promise."
"Well, that's a relief." He frowned at her sarcasm. Sorcha sent him a teasing grin. "What? It's the truth."
"You and sarcasm. Don't!" He said before she could open her mouth. "I don't need to hear that quote from Oscar Wilde again."
"Party pooper," she huffed. "Okay, fine, since you won't let me have my fun, why don't you tell me why you dislike hugs so much."
"It's not that I dislike them..."
"It's kinda obvious you don't like them. Or," she corrected as he heaved a sigh fraught with a conflagration of emotions, "it's you're not comfortable with them."
"I always think of my father when someone hugs me," he finally admitted in a small voice. A child's voice, Sorcha realized as her eyes narrowed into thin slits. "Remembering all the times before he was arrested."
Sorcha folded her legs beneath her as she allowed the weight of that admission to roll through her mind. On one hand she could understand why Malcolm had such an aversion to being hugged.
Martin Whitly was the lowest of the low.
The vilest of men.
However, he was still Malcolm's father.
The man who read to him, took care of him when he was sick, snuck him hot chocolate...
"That's also why you had that meltdown when I offered you hot chocolate," she said as realization dawned. "And why you refused to read the Count of Monte Cristo for Horowitz's class. They remind you of your dad."
Malcolm didn't answer. He just pulled his knees into his chest and folded his arms around them. The forlorn expression on his face broke her heart. Sorcha scooted closer to him and set a hand on his shoulder.
"I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, Mal," she said quietly. "My dad hugged me and read to me and sang to me all the time, too. I've never wondered if it was fake."
"Your father isn't a predatory psychopath."
"No, he's not," she agreed, rubbing his back in slow circles. "But just because your father is the scum of the Earth doesn't mean you can't remember those times."
"They were all a lie." Bitterness dripped from every word. "He didn't mean any of it."
"I'm sure he did in his own way." She had to believe that. For his sake if for nothing else. "I don't think it was all a lie."
Malcolm turned red-rimmed eyes to her. "Then why did he kill all those people?"
Sorcha ached to put her arms around him but had a feeling he'd reject it. She settled inside for combing her fingers through the hair at his nape.
"He isn't normal, Malcolm. He's a predatory psychopath as you said." Along with a dozen other things she didn't say aloud. "He couldn't fight his inclinations. Even for you."
Malcolm sat there, saying nothing, doing nothing. Sorcha wanted to comfort him in some way so she started to hum softly as she went back to rubbing his back in slow circles.
"Sorch?"
"Hm?"
"Would you hold me?" Raw, naked vulnerability swam across his face. Haunted those beautiful eyes that she'd never forget in a thousand lifetimes. "Please?"
It wasn't like he had to ask twice. She folded her arms around him and drew him against her.
"Yanno, there are scientific benefits to hugging," she said as she rest her head against his crown. "It stimulates the thymus gland for one. Lowers blood pressure. Improves sleep..."
"Nothing improves my sleep patterns."
"Because you're always stressed. Oh, hugging helps reduce stress and anxiety, too."
Malcolm hummed a laugh. "Are you trying to pull a me here?"
"By spouting off random facts about the benefits of hugging?"
"Mhm."
"Just doing my part to get that brain of yours to think about something else."
"Ah." The sound vibrated through him. "Well, then, you forgot they stimulate the memory center of the brain."
Sorcha sighed dramatically. "Well, there you go. That's why I keep forgetting shit on exams. Nobody hugs me beforehand."
"I'll hug you before our final on Tuesday."
"You better hug me after our final on Tuesday."
His arms crept around her as he let out a small chuckle. "The exam won't be that bad."
"Says the man with the only A in the class."
A/N: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!
I just want to send a special thank you to Rookblonkorules, guest, and chelsnichole12 for their lovely reviews!
