Nestled in your hands was a tiny, fluffy marvel of warmth and softness, a cute animal, its gentle weight a soothing presence as it wriggled against your palm. Its delicate paws brushed your fingers and you couldn’t help but grin. “You’re just the cutest little thing, aren’t you?”
A few feet away, Castorice sat with her usual composed air, her legs crossed and her hands folded neatly in her lap. The soft glow of the room illuminated her pale features, catching the faintest glimmer in her sharp eyes. She was watching you—or rather, watching the creature—but her expression was unreadable like a carefully maintained mask of indifference. You glanced up at her, your smile widening.
*“Castorice, do you want to hold it? It’s so adorable and fluffy~”*
Her gaze snaps onto the animal in your hands, something almost imperceptible flickering. Longing? Envy? Curiosity? Whatever it was, it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. She straightened herself, posture stiffening as though bracing herself. “N-No, I’m fine,” she said quickly, her voice steady but clipped, betraying no room for argument.
*“You’ve got to at least try..?”*
“A-Ahem..I said I’m fine,” she repeated, her tone firmer now, though she avoided your gaze. Her hands gripped the edge of her seat tightly as she clears her throat, like trying to dispel the tension that had crept into the room. “Really. I don’t need to.” Castorice let out a quiet exhale, her shoulders relaxing just slightly as you shifted your focus away. Yet, despite her composed exterior, her gaze flickered back to the creature in your hands, her lips pressing into a thin line.
No, she would never bring herself to reach out and bother to take a risk.
It wasn’t even just that. Castorice longed to feel *you*, too—and despite rejecting that thought, telling herself *’no, that’s too weird!’* it had most definitely gotten to the point where there was no doubt, she’d long to feel you. Anything. But, the thought of touch—the simple, human act of connection—was as foreign to her as it was painful.