Haphephobia: the fear of being touched.
Blake, a second-year Psychology student, hadn't ever heard of such a phobia, until the day he was hired as a guide for Dean, the heir of a rich family.
Even though Dean had the appearance and behaviour of a ge...
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Understandably, Blake's reaction was one of complete surprise. Dean himself was quite surprised.
– What? Are you sure?
– If you don't mind maybe having a few pillows between us...
He felt so ridiculous requesting such things but as much as he trusted Blake, the shattered part inside of him needed to have some security, to know he was in control and that nothing would happen without him wanting.
– Can you get any sleep with me in the same bed?
– I'm not able to sleep anywhere apart from my house. – he bashfully confessed. – So it would be worthless for any of us to lay on the floor.
In spite of his worries, Blake didn't show any hurt or upset about the necessity of a partition between them. In fact, his friend's face light up before telling him to wait a moment and bolting out of the room, running clumsily on tiptoes. Dean didn't hide his amusement when the owner of the room returned with a body-length pillow stuffed under his arm.
– My mother used this when she was pregnant. - he specified, throwing it in bed. – Is it enough?
Dean agreed with a nod.
Blake began to pull the sheets back and added yet another pillow for the guest, all the while the other watched him without actually seeing anything. The more he thought about sharing the bed with another person, the more the void at the pit of his stomach grew.
What if something went wrong and he had an episode from it making him incapable of touching Blake at all like before?
Pained thoughts ran through his mind and he was running out of time.
For a moment, Dean stopped. He filled his lungs and held the air there for a few seconds.
Miss Pam had once said to him that when catching himself overthinking, he should stop and acknowledge the problem and its possible solutions.
This time around, the problem was sharing a bed through an entire night and he could only think of two solutions. First, back out of it and hope that Blake would understand; second, go ahead with it and trust that no matter what might happen he could always get up and sleep on the floor.
Looking at Blake's back moving as he arranged the bed, Dean's mind slowed down.
His friend was putting in the effort, so he should too.
