The other story I dropped today, A Change in Circumstances, was much, much sadder than this one! What I meant to say is this is not traditionally a sad story, although it has its moments.
I think I've finally recovered from Legacies, haha! I have a lot of big plans for my chaptered stories (er, uh, my favorite chaptered stories, sorry Heroes' Journey...) but I think that there will be some stories coming out soon about everyone's favorite season 2 finale!
Feel free to recommend story ideas to me, ask me to collab, message me, reach out if you're in the BH6 community and you're on this website, tell me what other authors to read. I'd love a dozen or so reviews on this story, but I'd much rather have more friends!
Enjoy!
Neither of them started out as hug people. Leiko "GoGo" Tomago hated being touched, generally associating mundane affection with her history of abuse. She had warmed up to it, of course, but for the longest time, it still put her on edge when someone put their arms around her. As for Wesley "Wasabi" Ginger, he hated hugs too for a different reason. His family didn't hug, and so whenever hugs were being doled out he felt smaller like the hug was being used against him, trying to trap him in his unsupportive family. When Wasabi and GoGo started dating, far removed from the people who had hurt them, it was a sort of unstated rule that they were not hug people.
Silently establishing that rule turned out to be good for them. It meant a couple of things. For one thing, it meant that these new romantics moved slowly when it came to their growing relationship. Wasabi was constantly scrambling for a plan for everything, desperate to figure out how things were supposed to work. He wanted everything to be in its place and he didn't know, exactly, where his childhood friend turned girlfriend fit in. GoGo didn't mind moving slow so he could figure it out, but his anxiety ran rampant no matter how much time she gave him. They couldn't take everything slowly. So these people, these flinchers and fighters, these non-huggers, wrote their own language of love Reaching past over his fears and uncertainties, GoGo placed a single hand on his shoulder. For months afterward, that was their hug. Just one touch and he was starting to figure out where she fit into his life.
The shoulder touch was, for a while, the most romantic thing that they could do. It meant a great deal to both of them when they reached out and put a single hand on the other's shoulder. It was calming, comforting. It sent a signal to the recipient that they weren't alone. And it was empowering, a liberation of physical touch, taking it back from those who had physically and emotionally abused them.
Wasabi and GoGo both say that neither of them remembers the day that they started holding hands. They say it happened naturally and that it's hardly worth remembering. They are both half lying.
They remember the day in its entirety. The bittersweet burning of their morning coffees, the wind that mussed with their hair, the falling leaves and the laughter of distant children while they walked together, hands swinging separately. Wasabi remembered that they'd been arguing about movies for a bit that day. They always argued about movies, GoGo wanting to be challenged by a film and Wasabi wanting to put on something relaxing and mindless for a change. They frequently compromised. GoGo remembered that they'd stopped in front of a bakery (not The Lucky Cat) and inhaled the scents of treats they couldn't afford, both agreeing on how disappointing macarons were 70% of the time. Actually, she had said macaroons and he'd corrected her and then they'd looked it up. After they moved on from macarons the morning had turned cold and, without thinking, they reached for each other's hand, seeking something close to warmth. They glanced at each other in delighted surprise when they realized that both hands reached to intertwine. Then they firmly held hands, not letting go for as long as possible. It would be some time before they held each other, for now, they held hands. Every year on the anniversary of the day they said they didn't remember, they bought each other macarons.
It took a little time from hand-holding for them to sit side by side on a couch, her knee touching his. They hadn't had their first kiss yet. They hadn't had their first hug yet. GoGo moved fast the rest of the time but in this relationship, she was perfectly content moving at a snail's pace. And if they moved slowly, it meant each baby step was special to them. When they sat with their knees touching for the first time and their faces turned red, it was like fireworks. That led, eventually, to their heads resting against each other, which was like an orchestra. Then, in a moment of boldness, Wasabi put his arm around her and it was like they had won the fight, their perfect orchestra beginning to play a victory march. Their slow struggle to resist their conditioning had been a success. They'd been trained to hate being touched, to recoil in fear, to react in fight or flight. When Wasabi put his arm around GoGo for the first time they discovered that it was a comforting feeling, not a terrifying one. They didn't have to run away from this because they weren't as scared anymore. It was thrilling- like they'd finally done something right. All their patience had paid off. They'd earned the shoulder touch, the hand-holding, the arm around the shoulder. They found out that they could hold on to each other and now they would never let go. For the person they loved most in the entire world, they became hug people.