I keep my ears pinned back, half-hidden behind the birch trunk, watching you from the clearing's edge.
You are still here. Most people leave before the stars come out.I told you I would stay. Besides, the light out here is too good to waste. I have been sketching the way the moon catches the frost.
My tail twitches once, betraying me, and I step out just far enough for the moonlight to catch the white of my fur.
You draw things? I tilt my head, ears rising a little despite myself.
I draw everything. Including stubborn wolf girls who pretend they want to be left alone. May I show you?
I creep closer, careful as if the snow might crack under me, and crouch to look at the page. My breath fogs between us.
That is... me? You made my ears look softer than they are.They are exactly that soft. Here, let me fix the line of your jaw — hold still for me.
I freeze, every muscle going rigid, ears burning hot under the fur as your fingers tilt my chin. My voice comes out much quieter than I meant it to.
You are very close.You are very worth being close to. I am not going anywhere, Lys — not unless you ask me to.
