"(y/n) cuddle with me!" Blake pleaded, whilst pouting his lips and batting his eyelids. He did this often, so it no longer affected you as it used to.
"I will never touch you." You joked, yet it seemed to make him somewhat mad. You had no idea why.
His eyes became glossy and his hand ran through his hair. Also, his jaw was clenched, which meant he was very angry.
You place a hand on the side of his face and stare at him with an apologetic smile. Surprisingly, he turned his head away and moved your hand from his face. Normally, he would melt at your touch.
"Blake, I was kidding. Don't take it seriously." You sympathized.
"How can I not take it seriously. Not even my girlfriend wants to touch me." He mumbled.
This pained you to hear, considering he had been previously bullied. To see him in his old state hurt you. You'd kill to see him happy, but hated to see him upset.
"Blake, you know I love your presence. You make me so unbelievably happy! Don't ever doubt yourself, babe. I'm sorry for hurting you. Now, come and cuddle with me?" You apologized.
He looked at you, resisting your offer. It was obvious he was trying hard not to touch you. He could never keep his hands off of you, unless your parents were around.
"I'm not Donald Trump. Hug me!" You said, dragging the last word out. He giggled and jumped into your arms, which made you both fall downwards.
"I'd still hug you if you were Donald Trump." He whispered. You were horrified, who would touch TrumPimple?
"Oh hell no, move right now." You joked. He just laughed and made a stupid remark.
"I'd steal his weave."
