[The idea that he could feel what his skin is like through the act of touching himself... It's odd, to Angel. It would be like feeling the texture of cloth when covered by another layer of it. It's too distant, not easily understood. But Denji's skin is so easy to understand. So different from what he has felt. How thin his fingers are, how firm his palm is. He stares at their union while Denji explains what it feels like to touch him and, for some really weird reason, he kind of wonders what Denji might taste like, too.]
[He lets his hand drop after a moment, still staring openly at the inches of exposed skin below the roll of Denji's sleeve. Different. He says he feels the same as any person, but Denji isn't squishy, isn't like fondant covering a moist cake. It's hard to comprehend. Like being able to touch a cloud without it dissipating beneath your fingers. Melting into cold vapor. No, Denji can't understand that, he knows.]
[So why does it have to be Denji who has to be the one to feel him?]
[The other side of the coin of touching: being touched. Simple things he hid himself away from, if not out of distaste then out of practicality. Yes, he hates humans, of course he does, of course. But the idea has crossed his mind. Once or twice, sure. The idea of someone touching him and Angel not minding it, them not being hurt by it. Taking his hand, rubbing something off his cheek, touching - the act of being felt.]
[And here stands Denji, capable of all those things and more. Why? Divine intervention? This is a cruel blessing, if that's the case.]
I wonder why it's you, then. Who can touch me without being hurt.
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[He lets his hand drop after a moment, still staring openly at the inches of exposed skin below the roll of Denji's sleeve. Different. He says he feels the same as any person, but Denji isn't squishy, isn't like fondant covering a moist cake. It's hard to comprehend. Like being able to touch a cloud without it dissipating beneath your fingers. Melting into cold vapor. No, Denji can't understand that, he knows.]
[So why does it have to be Denji who has to be the one to feel him?]
[The other side of the coin of touching: being touched. Simple things he hid himself away from, if not out of distaste then out of practicality. Yes, he hates humans, of course he does, of course. But the idea has crossed his mind. Once or twice, sure. The idea of someone touching him and Angel not minding it, them not being hurt by it. Taking his hand, rubbing something off his cheek, touching - the act of being felt.]
[And here stands Denji, capable of all those things and more. Why? Divine intervention? This is a cruel blessing, if that's the case.]
I wonder why it's you, then. Who can touch me without being hurt.