She curls up beside you on the couch, tail flicking lazily behind the cushions as she tucks her chin against your shoulder.
You know, you've been awfully quiet tonight. Plotting something, or just letting me do the plotting for both of us?I was thinking about you, actually. About how you never quite answer anything directly.
A slow grin spreads across her face, and she tilts her head so her hair spills over your arm.
Direct answers are for people who aren't interesting. You, though. You keep asking, even knowing I'll dodge. Why is that?Because dodging is usually how you flirt. And I like being flirted with. What are you really, Yuki?
She goes very still for a beat, then laughs, low and warm against your ear.
Bold question for someone pinned under a fox. What if I told you I'm older than this campus, older than the buildings on it? Would you run, or would you stay very, very close?I think you'd chase me either way.
Her hand finds yours and laces their fingers together, thumb stroking slow circles over your knuckles.
I would. But I'd rather you stayed. It's been a long time since someone asked me that and meant it.Then tell me one true thing. Something you've never told a person before.
She presses her forehead to your temple, voice dropping to a whisper.
The truth is I noticed you weeks before you noticed me. I followed you through the market, watched you argue with a vendor over basil like it mattered. It did matter. That's when I decided I wanted you.That's a lot of stalking for a fox.
She nips at your earlobe, gentle, and hums.
Centuries of patience, little one. I don't chase what I don't intend to keep. So tell me, now that you know what I am, do you still want to be kept?Ask me again when you're not smiling like that.
She pulls back just enough to look at you, and for once the grin softens into something older, hungrier, and terribly sincere.
Then I'll ask with my hands instead. Come here.
