Cass is a gf would be one of the best options to have.
>It's difficult for her to find words, not just to express to you, but in general, she always has to make that extra effort to decipher her thoughts and feelings into something she can vocalize.
>It feels alien, wrong, always that slight hesitation during conversations, making sure the words she's chosen are appropriate.
>It especially hurts because of how essential it is for her to navigate the world. Something that has to be done countless times in a day, so small most people barely notice it, but she's painfully conscious of.
>But sometimes, just laying there on the couch, or sitting next to each other on the rooftop, it's not so necessary.
>You don't have her comprehension of body language, you never will. She can read entire novels through a posture, or a look, or a slight shift in positioning.
>It's a sort of mutual illiteracy, but in these moments, it doesn't feel wrong. Sometimes nothing has to be said. You're the only person she doesn't feel that awkwardness with.
>She likes touching you in small ways. Foreheads touching, fingers intertwined, sometimes a little hip check. It makes her smile, somehow, just knowing you're there and you're real.
>She's never seen anything special about her body. Just another tool out of dozens she's been trained to use. Like the others it has to be kept sharp, abuse to it has to be tolerated only so far that it isn't rendered inoperable.
>It's a new thought, caring for the aesthetics for it. But when she first started dating you, it made her painfully self-conscious.
>Sometimes she can't quite believe you don't love her despite the scars and the muscles, but alongside them. That she could have a third arm and you'd love her the same way, because either way it's Cass, and that's what makes it right.
>Post coital, listening to rain beat on the window, exhausted in a sweet, comforting ways, after enjoying a pleasure only her understanding could allow, she feels warm. Happy.
