What Is This Feeling - So Sudden and Foreign?

"Come, I'll walk you home," he says to me, concern lingering in his voice.
I ignore him.
"It's raining..." he holds out an umbrella and follows me, shielding me from the rain.
I duck out from underneath the cover, letting the raindrops fall on me. 
I hear him sigh behind me. 
"Fine, take this then," he hands me the umbrella and hurries across the street before I could refuse him yet again. 
I stare at the handle, unsure of this gesture of kindness. 
I was tempted to squash the very show of genorisity, and throw the evidence of it on the ground.
I didn't though, I walked home with the umbrella in my hand, as if nothing was amiss. 

As I was busy drying my hair, my glance went back to the soggy umbrella, sitting by my door.
"Damn it," I said aloud.
I made plans to leave it by his desk tomorrow.

I couldn't understand him. I couldn't understand why he bothered. Especially when I have been nothing but cold. Cold wasn't even the word. I was, quite frankly, a bitch.

My mind involuntarily flashed back to a scene I would rather just forget. He had the misfortune of having me as a lab partner. I kind of pitied him, I wasn't much of a team player.

"Here, I got a band-aid from the TA,"
"I'm fine. Let's just finish this experiment, I want to get out of here," I muttered.
I had my fingers wrapped around a small cut on my palm, plugging the wound.
I stared up at him and was surprised to be met with his eyes. He gawked at me as if I had slapped him. 
"Why do you always assume the worst in people? And here, just take the stupid bandage." He said with a scowl on his face.
I was a little taken aback, I did not expect such an interrogation coming from him.
"Because they have never given me any reason to assume otherwise," I challenged. I still ignored the flesh-colored bandage he was holding out to me. He finally gave up and just placed the thing on my side of the counter.
He was trying to read me further, but it was too late, my face was back to being painted a nice neutral.

Somewhere along the line, I had stopped caring and started being indifferent. It made life simpler, less stressful. In doing so, I had forgotten how it feels like to care for someone else.

I was a coward, still am a coward. I play it safe, never daring to take risks. My comfort zone is my shell.

I would hold myself back, hold myself at a distance. I was deathly afraid of peering over my carefully built barrier. So fearful of putting myself out there, to form actual human relationships. I decided that temporary happiness was not worth a moment's vulnerability.

Thinking of him, the stubborn guy with the umbrella and the band-aid. My insides are at once, raw and numb, begging for relief yet unsure of where to start treating it.

Am I possibly feeling moved? Touched?