Touch goes first.
He makes it.
Whenever he feels like pulling away, he curls in, bites down the urge to swallow, starts the movements first.
And, after a while, it's not that hard. His fingers flutter down arms, his elbows hook around shoulders, his nose rests in the crook of necks, and his grins rest against hands when he's silly.
It's like he's a book, one in which his friends seem to be becoming fluent in, but he can't ague them that, when it's almost as though every chapter they find seems to carry new rules for them to follow.
Touch becomes a part of his life that had never existed before, resting in the empty slots of time when he used to hold himself back, for fear of his mind betraying him, and now it works, ticks through gears like a steamwork creature, helping instead of hindering.
He's making it better, even though it's hard, it's getting better, and that's all he can ask.
He's getting better.
AN: Thanks to Pugslover for your review! :3
(Yes, I'm alright; well, I will be perfectly alright with a few months of rest.)
Also there's only one more chapter left! Thank you for sticking with me through this, and for all your lovely reviews, they were just fabulous. ^w^
It shall be uploaded on Wednesday, as per usual! (And it's much much longer than these past two chapters, I promise.)