Sukoon-e-dil

She was terrified of touch-flinching at even the gentlest brush, retreating from warmth as if it could burn her. To her, touch had always meant pain, a reminder of wounds too deep to heal. She built walls, convinced that no one could ever reach her without breaking her apart. But then came him. His touch wasn't forceful; it wasn't something to fear. It was patient, steady-like a quiet promise that she was safe. And before she knew it, the arms she once feared became the home she never knew she needed.