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...
PLEASE VOTE: Sorry for nagging you all, but could you pleeeeeease vote? I know many people forget, but the votes are what boosts the story so more people can find it. I really want this novel to return ranking on the hashtags, so if you voted it would mean A LOT to me. (If you have the patience of voting on the previous chapters, I would reeaallyy appreciate it! )
Every chapter I will shout out someone, as a thank you for reading! If you want to be the next shout out, you just have to VOTE and leave a COMMENT (anything you want to).
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A groan escaped of his lips as he stared the hurtful paper. Blake had been staring at that page for almost twenty minutes now, and he just didn't seem to understand it. If the problem was with the subject, maybe he would be less frustrated.
From the desk at his right, Dean turned to him, his concentration broken by the grunt.
- Is everything alright?
Blake didn't look at him, instead letting his head fall onto the papers with enough force to make a dry back sound.
- I can't understand it. - his cried was muffled against the table.
It had been almost two hours since the boys had reached the mansion that, by that time, was already empty. After having a piece of red velvet cake each, that Blake was more than excited to taste once more, both took to the heir's huge bedroom where the latter lost the discussion about who should seat at the desk and who should sit on the floor and use the coffee table.
- I can lend you my laptop for you to research if you want to.
Regardless of his disgruntled state, the frustrated Psychology student had to smile at his friend's kindness, turning his face so he could look at him, still laying on the papers.
- Thanks, but it's not that. I'm not understanding the meaning, the way that it is written is so confusing.
The explanation didn't earn him the confused look he had grown used to. Instead, Dean stood up approaching the table. Seeing his intentions, Blake shimmied to the side, making sure to leave enough space for him.
- Do you mind if I have a look at it?
With a "go ahead" gesture from his friend, Dean grabbed the paper in question, starting his analysis, whilst Blake crossed his arms on the table, laying his head on them and watched him.
Whenever the usually self-conscious man put a focused expression, Blake found himself in awe at the transformation. Dean might not have been aware of it yet, but whoever got to see that part of him would be left with no doubts that he was destined to be the head of the family business. With absorbed hazel eyes, Dean grabbed Blake's abandoned notebook, only ungluing from the text to search for something to write with. Blake, noting he had kept a pencil in his hands, rolled the same in the other's direction.
