A young woman tries to control her change Note: Soooo… I completely didn’t plan this story. Just kinda suddenly decided to write a quick story, settled on a large cat TF and just… sorta… wrote it all in about 5 hours. Accidentally. Meant to do a werewolf one next. Uhhh. Sorry?

Some days you want to curl up in bed and never, ever move again. And, that’s fine. But, then, sometimes you need to just push. Push yourself to get up. Push yourself to roll out of bed. To brush your teeth. To follow the routine you’ve been following for years. There is a time and place for hiding from the world but, fuck it. Sometimes you gotta fight it.

And, yet, I still feel terrified. Standing at my front door. Purse in one hand, little lunch bag in the other. Staring at the door. Blank mind. Just. Staring. I could still call in sick; my work is pretty lenient about this kind of thing. I can feel my heart in my stomach, pounding away. I have to face it at some point. I have to push it as far as I can.

Before I can change my mind, I open the door and step into the warm, late Spring air. I shade my eyes against the sun and then head over to my old car. A little Camry my dad got for me as a graduation gift from college. It was old when he bought it and it’s even older now but it runs and that’s all I care about until I can afford a better one.

Look at me, distracting myself with stupid, mundane things.

Purse and lunch in the passenger side. Keys in ignition. Backing up. Driving away. All routine. Traffic on the Interstate, yelling at everyone getting in the exit lane just so they can jump back further ahead in the queue. Feeling the little anger bubble up but pushing it away.

I sneak into the office, smiling at a few work friends until I can hide myself in my little corner cubicle. It’s a good place to work. Nice little mixture of honest, hardworking people and incredibly over-dramatic annoying people. I work in billing and there’s already a ton of invoices and credit checks for me to run so, yay, more to distract myself.

Yes, yes it is boring. But, I like working with numbers. It’s soothing in a weird way. I’m studying most evenings to become a CPA. Then maybe I can get a new car. Like, maybe a Camry that’s only 6 years old. Living the life.

Phone calls. Emails. Chatting with people that wander past my cubicle.

I can do this.

Hiding a yawn behind a cracking jaw, I look at the little clock on my computer. Just a bit past three. I usually eat lunch late at my desk when it’s busy and today’s no exception. Honestly, I’m surprised my keyboard still works. I can see so many crumbs under the keys. I like to think bacteria are building a civilization down there. Maybe offering up sacrifices when I’m really clacking away. Trying to appease the… would I be a thunder god? Earthquake? Goddess. Whatever.

Movement catches the corner of my eye and I turn quickly. Just someone walking by unexpectedly. Nothing. Nothing unusual. And, yet, I felt a small surge of adrenaline.

I’m good. I’m still good.

I settle my black, tight ponytail behind me and lean into the spreadsheet I’m updating. It helps me focus. I need it because that little bit of energy just a bit ago hasn’t left. I feel on edge. Winding and unwinding my legs together under my desk. My stockings whisk together whisk-whisk-whisk-whisk and, damn, I can’t even remember what row I was looking at on this fucking spreadsheet.

“Hey Kris,” Ben says, passing by my cubicle.

“Hey,” I trail off, watching him walk away.

The smell. His smell. I can almost see it coming from him. My lips peel back and I tip my chin, nose and forehead wrinkling. Dark brown eyes dilating. I don’t smell the air, I taste it. Pulling it into my mouth to savor it. Shivering. I can’t explain it because I don’t think I’ve ever felt this before. Never even… not even from before. It smells warm. Salty. A little sweaty. A little bitter. A little sweet.

My lips curl. I want to lick him. The thought just pops up. Licking the side of his neck with a wide tongue. I shiver again and rub my arms. My feet are pressed hard against each other. Thighs tight. I almost growl and, instead, breathe out harshly.

Bowing my head, I lick my lips, breathing deeply. Ben’s scent nearly becoming replaced with the heady scent of my own excitement wafting up to me. This time I do growl. Almost. Kind of. It’s similar. Rumbling deep in my throat.

Quickly standing, I make my way to the private bathroom nearby, locking the door. Staring at myself. Looking for changes. Leaning forward, staring deep into my own eyes. I can feel nearly every tiny hair along my arms. Clearing my throat with a rough cough (I can still smell him) I turn on the water, letting it run for a while.

Finger against my lips, pulling them back. My teeth still look fine. I think. I have never bothered to look at my teeth much beyond quick post-brushing until a few months ago.

My eyes. Dark brown normally but I watch a small golden streak appear in my right eye like a small crack. Heat rushes through my body from my toes to my ears and I gasp in astonishment. I feel it physically as a full body blush and my stomach clenches. Gasping, I bend, clutching the sink until my stomach relaxes. My face is burning and my ears are on fire. Looking up, more golden cracks shine in my eyes. I can’t feel it happening. I also can’t look away. I’ve never… I’ve never watched any of this happen.

Sweat drips from my hair as my eyes turn gold. Colors seem to fade slightly while everything takes on a slight blur. Like I need glasses. It’s not bad but it’s noticeable.

My blouse sticks to my sweaty back and I’m breathing quickly. Panting almost. Sweat rolls down between my breasts, soaking into the band of my bra.

And then, I gasp, biting my tongue in pain while falling to my knees. I can taste the blood but the pain in my mouth is nothing compared to the stabbing, scraping pain in my hips. On my hands and knees, tears forming at the corner of my eyes, sweat dripping to the ground, I lower my chest and raise my hips. Awkwardly. Half aware of what I must look like. The position eases the pain somewhat. Blood drips from my mouth. I can feel it now. The tips of my canines. Sharper.

The pain in my hips and lower back subsides to a dull, throbbing ache. I lower myself further, burning cheek against the cool tile, shifting my hips, rocking them back and forth. Spreading my thighs. Stretching my upper body forward until my blouse touches the ground. I claw at the ground before realizing what I’m doing. Grimacing. Groaning, I push back to my knees and sit on my heels. Something clicks quietly in my hips. I rock back and forth on my heels, feeling the little bone. Click-shift-click-shift-click. It feels strange but at least it doesn’t hurt bad anymore.

Sighing deeply, I pull myself up to the still running sink. My brilliant golden eyes stare back at me. My lips bulge ever so slightly and, opening my mouth, I see the hint of my top and bottom fangs. Nothing that would send people screaming in a panic but possibly worth a double-take from anyone passing. The teeth around my canines are twisted to make room. No more smiling or talking today.

My ears flick as someone walks by outside the room and I instinctively sniff the air. Ugh. Seriously? Pushing aside my hair, I look closely at my ears. Are they pointed a little? Just a bit? I can’t tell. But, pressing fingertips behind them, I feel something shift and move at the base of my ears. New bones or something that lets them move more freely. To focus on sounds.

I splash water on my face. And then again. The urge to just dunk my head is pretty damn strong but, instead, I just run wet fingers through my hair and down the back of my neck. I love the feel of water on me when I’m like this. Rather than drying my face off, I stare at myself again. It’s mesmerizing. My eyes. My fangs. Something stirs in my lower belly and I breathe deeply. Ben’s scent is still there. Fading but there. My upper lip twitches.

Is it enough? Have I pushed enough?

Still holding the edge of the sink, I lean forward, eyes closed and work my shoulders. They feel sore, as if I’d been at the gym. Muscles aching and stiff.

I stand, turning off the water. Mouth closed. Staring at myself. I’m not sweating any more and my blouse is starting to dry.

No. I can push further. I have to. I have to take control of this. Pain flares in my fingers and I hiss, making fists with my small hands. The joints are alive with pain, pulsing fiercely. A tiny stream of blood courses along the palm of my hand, too light to drip as it winds down to my wrists instead.

I growl. Deep in my throat. My ears twitch, twisting. Trying to pull back. My fangs are exposed. The skin behind my fingernails bulges slightly. A little more blood leaks from beneath them. The bulge moves forward and then stops. I open my hands, staring at my bloody palms. They’re darker in places now. The skin under my fingers and palm. I rub my hands together slowly and they rasp and nearly catch.

I will push further. I’m still fine. Just a bit more.

Clear water turns pink as I wash my hands of blood. I towel off, drying my face and neck as well as my hands. When I feel presentable, I unlock the door and step out.

I’d hoped it was the bathroom that was making me uncomfortably warm but, even in the relatively cool air of the open office, I still feel flushed. With a quick glance around, I nearly run to my desk and settle in again.

I’ll give myself another hour. Just that. An hour. And then I’ll go and finish this out at home. That’s fair. That’s good. I fucking got this.

My typing is off with my bulky, awkward fingers now but that doesn’t matter because I can’t concentrate on the screen. It seems to be more blurry than everything around me and the colors are all weird and it strobes. Hurts my head a bit. Plus, there’s so many sounds around me. And smells. Ben is in there somewhere and I can’t help but breathe deeply to try to catch him again.

Small black and orange hairs push through my pantyhose, unnoticed. I scratch idly at the fabric, nearly slicing open the thin material with my nails.

More pain, similar to what I felt in my hands, erupts in my toes. Hissing through clenched teeth, I grip my desk and it creaks as muscles shift in my arms. Skin bulges and moves along my forearm and biceps and it feels like my arms are on fire. Lean, hard muscle forms beneath creamy smooth skin but I can’t even feel it beyond the screaming pain in my feet. Seams in my flats strain as my toes bunch up. I can feel and hear the joints popping.

Slowly, too slowly to me, the pain seems to wash away. I’m sweating again. And panting. Tongue lolling out of my mouth. I snap up and look around, glad that my cubicle wall is tall enough to hide me. My toes bulge in the small shoes. I can’t make them lay flat any more. I can’t even feel the muscles needed to work the tips of my toes. There are runs in my pantyhose, just above the opening of my flats.

Dammit.

“…and… said…..no…” I hear Ben say. My ears swivel to catch what he is saying but he works at the far end of the building. I shouldn’t be able to hear anything that far away. Instinctively, I lift my chin and then higher, lips pulled back, baring my little fangs to try to smell him. I can’t and I rock in my chair, frustrated. I’ve noticed him before, of course, and thought he was cute enough but that… scent. It’s driving me wild. Literally. Just the memory of it is muddling my brain and making me press my thighs together.

Orange and black hairs slide through the skin at the back of my neck and I claw at them while scratching my feet along the ground. Something moved in my lower back. A forming muscle trying to twitch a non-existent tail in frustration and exasperation. I lick the back of my hand, dragging it across my lips to help calm me. The skin along my upper lip opens in a few places to expose the tips of white whiskers.

Fuck it.

Fuck. It. I’m going. Fuck all this should I or shouldn’t I. I’m fucking going to him.

I stand and then place my hands against my desk to steady myself. The little muscle shifts again in my lower back. Uselessly. My feet feel strange and, yet, familiar. Familiar to a steadily growing part of me.

Padding through the office, ears flicking, I move with a purpose. Striding through the cubicles, fighting the urge to growl. I feel boundless energy deep within. My shoulders and arms ache and I flex my fingers, feeling the little sharp tips of claws hidden underneath my fingernails.

His scent is growing stronger. I feel it pulling at me. As if it had sharp teeth and nails and had dug itself into my belly, yanking at my core.

My nipples ache. Throbbing. Sending little shocks of electricity deep into my stomach.

Small black lines appear in my dark lips but go no further. Janice, from sales almost says hello but then blinks twice quickly and steps back, glancing nervously around before laughing quietly. Unsettled. Small primate brain confused at the predator stalking the hallway.

People are starting to leave. End of the day. I nearly snarl at a few of them before remembering where I am. It’s getting harder to think straight. I should go. I should’ve been gone. A while ago. I toss my head, baring my fangs briefly in anger. At myself. At my change. At the world.

Claws slide from beneath my toenails, slicing through the soles of my shoes and digging into the short pile carpet. My feet ache again. Growing again. Straining against the shoes. I go to the balls of my feet in the next step. And then force myself down again. But, it feels wrong now to walk flat-footed. Unnatural. My lower back twitches again and I go back up. Walking on paws that aren’t quite there yet.

My shirt is so tight. I have a brief, insane urge to tear it off of me. I almost do it. God help me but I almost do it right there in front of the dwindling office. The thought of being naked is exhilarating. Cool air against my burning skin. A single button on my blouse comes undone. The shirt pulls up to expose bare skin above my black skirt. I feel like something is tearing at my stomach. Knives. I’d be on my knees if I wasn’t so intent on finding Ben.

This was such a terrible, terrible idea. I should’ve stayed home. I can’t now. I know I can’t. Light fuzz grows up to cover my ears. Nearly invisible black hairs lining the backs of the ears as they focus forward. I have to see him. It’s driving me. She is. Me. I’m driving me. I want him. I want to rub myself against him. To cover him in my scent while tasting his. I want to feel his skin against mine. His fingers in my fur. In my hair. On my skin.

I’m sopping wet. I can feel the wetness against my thighs. Soaking my panties. Short black and orange hairs sprout along my smooth, hairless mound.

And then, he’s there. Fingertip against his lip while staring at something. I know what it is. The thing he’s staring at. It’s a… a program. We all use it. Why can’t I think of the name of it? I use it all the goddamned time. It’s… it’s…

I’m putting it off. God, I want to fucking jump him. I want to ravage him right here. I know I can’t. Even now, I know I can’t.

Black-striped fur grows along my breasts. It itches as it grows. I can feel it creeping down my belly just as sharp points of pinching pain forms along my sides. I groan quietly and twist my thighs together as milk ducts form beneath my stomach, a prelude to my teats forming. I want to touch them. To knead them. To twist and pinch them.

I want him to do it.

“Hello, Ben,” I purr, moving closer to him. The back of my skirt bulges and I smile in pain, gripping his cubicle wall. The cheap metal groans beneath my powerful grip. My tail is finally starting to grow out.

“Oh, hey, Kris,” Ben says, turning to look at me. His eyes dip down to my bulging chest before quickly flicking back up. He swallows deeply, eyes focusing on my own. My aching, hardened nipples are tenting my blouse. It pleases me – the thought of him admiring me. Wanting me. I laugh low in my throat and it comes out as a rumble.

“Could you show me something, Ben?” I ask innocently.

“Y- yeah, sure, of course. W- what do you need?”

I lean towards him. My skirt strains and another button comes undone in my blouse. I can feel my growing breasts sliding against the fabric, nipples dragging along the smooth shirt. I want to moan as I pretend it’s Ben’s fingers on them. I can feel the bare skin of my tail against my ass as it wriggles.

Ben turns to face his monitor. He’s nearly vibrating in his seat. Eyes wide. Uncertain. Somehow both terrified and aroused. I lean forward, placing my right hand on his desk near his mouse. My cheek is nearly touching his and I can feel his body heat.

That. Fucking. Smell.

I close my eyes, groaning as I smell him. It makes my head spin. On top of it all, I smell his sex. The scent of his arousal. Salty and sharp. I look down and smile behind him at the bulge in his pants.

“K- Kris?” Ben says, still facing the monitor.

More fur sprouts from behind my pantyhose and the stockings strain. The black fabric pulls tight, stretching as muscles grow beneath my legs. I gasp and hiss, clutching his desk. Small tears in the stockings show short black and orange striped fur. The lines and ridges of my new, powerful legs vanish beneath growing fur.

Running a free hand along my belly, I can feel where my teats will grow. Pure black claws push aside my fingertips and I slice my blouse to reveal my taut belly, beading with sweat..

Ben shakes his head, confused at the smell of me. Sweat-soaked fur and my engorged sex dripping with my need.

Reaching for his hand, I accidentally cut him with my thick claw. He yelps, pulling his hand away but I’m quicker. I grab it from him in my rough, now-large hand. He looks at me and I hold his gaze. Slowly, bringing his hand to my mouth. My tongue laps out, wide and long and it rasps against his skin. I clean him while he watches, eyes wide, mouth open.

Unable to contain myself, I kiss him, my throat rumbling with my burning desire as our tongues twist together. He’s trying to talk. Trying to push me away but I’m stronger than he is. Still holding his wrist, I guide him to my breast, pushing it against my skin. He tries to pull away once, twice and then relaxes. Ben’s fingers, dig in almost hesitantly against my chest, kneading my large, furred breast. I growl quietly in approval.

Finally, we break apart. Ben gasps, breathing for air. Eyes still wide in shock. I can feel my tail sliding down my thigh. The smooth skin of the yet hairless tail tickles the patches of fur along my ass and thighs. The young man’s eyes look down just as the side of my skirt splits, tearing under my growing body. It clings to me, exposing skin and fur and heavy muscles. Ben wipes at his mouth and looks down to see blood. My fangs are sharp and fierce and I tasted his blood and my own while we kissed.

Two tiny points form on my bare midriff. The skin puckers around the points and then twist to form small, pink nipples. Ben works his mouth in confusion and then grabs his stomach.

A single golden line appears in the young man’s eyes.

“It… it hurts…” Ben gasps.

I sniff the air. His scent is changing. No, not changing. Thickening. Growing stronger. More him. Much more him.

I feel myself fading. My human side. Complex things like the computer are starting to lose their meaning. I know what it is but I couldn’t explain it to you. What it’s used for. How it works. I have to hurry. Before I’m gone all the way. I grab Ben and he stands, stumbling behind me. My foot cracks and shifts, lengthening, pulling at my toes until they’re wide and thick.

Nearly running on my paws now, we make our way through dark hallways. Past closed offices. To the… place… the place where… things … go. Put things. Store? Storage? Away. Away from people.

Pain in my hand. I look back. Ben’s eyes are golden. His nose is black. The sleeve of his white button-down shirt is torn to reveal thick forearms. His fingernails are gone, replaced with deadly, curved black claws.

“Kris,” he’s panting, lips back in a grimace. “What’s… I don’t understand.”

The male is in pain. My male. I stop in front of the place. The place I want to be. It’s blocked but I push at it and growl, black ears back in anger. The male reaches out, touching part of the wall and it opens. I lick the male’s ears in appreciation and pull him inside. The large room is pitch black but I see well despite this.

The male cries out in pain and I look over with concern. His teeth are cracking, making room for growing fangs. I hold him as he flails, clawing at my flesh and strange coverings. He whimpers and I lay him down, pulling at the bits of things over my body, revealing my nakedness.

Pain. Pain flares in my head and I fall to my hands and knees, thick tail thrashing behind me. My jaw cracks and I blink away tears as the bones pull and push, widening and growing out into a short, powerful muzzle. Black and orange fur sprout down from my forehead slowly.

The male is curled into a ball, crying. I can see his back but something is on him so I claw at it, exposing his beautiful body. A thick tuft of fur covers his shoulders and neck above a bare, sweaty back. I straddle him, licking the back of his neck with my tongue. Grooming him. He calms beneath my attentions and then shifts, pushing at his body. I help him, pulling and pushing and cutting at the things still covering him until he lies sweating and shaking and naked.

Hissing through sharp fangs, the male turns to me with furrowed brow. He calls to me in a strange voice and I hear anger there. I growl at him, ears back and he growls back, small, hairless ears twitching. He pushes himself up to his elbows and we stare at each other.

With a scream, the male bucks, falling backward. He arches his back and quivers, clawing at the ground. His manhood throbs above him and I can’t look away. The smell of it… tiny white hairs are sprouting from the base. His cock is long and pink with a thick vein along the length. I want to touch it. To lick it. To rub my whole face against it. Small bumps form along the length of the male’s cock and, beneath it, his furred testicles swell. I watch as the hard bumps lengthen into tiny spines and something deep within me responds in kind.

I yowl for him. No longer able to hold back, I rub my sex against his, hissing and yowling as his thick, barbed cock slides between my burning, wet lips. Rocking my hips, pressing my heavy, furred body against his, I rub and yowl and growl and hiss until, moving forward, I feel him press against my opening.

Eagerly, I press back and he fills me. The male bucks, claws grabbing for my wide, furry hips while his eyes stare hungrily from a fur-less face. I don’t wait for him. Can’t wait. I push myself down, impaling my hungry pussy onto his throbbing, still growing cock. The barbs bite in and I scream. Pain and pleasure mix. Blood roars in my ears. I slam myself down against the male over and over, blood and juices mixing with my fur. He explores my furred stomach, stroking my teats and breasts as he completes his own change beneath me.

Almost faster than I can follow, the male moves, rolling over, forcing me to the ground. I growl, swiping at his newly formed muzzle. My claws bite in, drawing blood and he hisses. Before I can strike him again, he’s on top of me, claws digging into my neck and shoulder. My heavy breasts press flat against the carpet beneath me and I can feel a slow drip between my sore, engorged sex. Blood and cum. My own.

I thrash, yowling. Needing. Angry and empty and hungry. I buck but, as strong as I am now, the male is stronger. I feel his fangs in the fur of my shoulder and I still myself. My traitorous tail strikes the male’s side and then wraps itself around his waist. My neck and shoulder vibrate while the male growls his warning. His cock pressing against my wet, furred ass, probing. I shiver, yowling again, loudly, until he presses into me.

The male’s arms and legs wrap around me and I raise myself for him, meeting his powerful thrusts with a slam of my own hips. My large ass slaps against his hips, eager for his seed. I feel something within. My own orgasm building despite the pain of his barbs scraping against my slick walls. The first orgasm for my changed body. I growl, lips pulled back under long, white whiskers. Black furred ears flat against my muzzle. Long, strong legs anchoring myself to the ground with thick black claws.

Large fingers find my own and I feel the male’s rough pads as he clenches my hand, a remnant of his human side coming through. Grunting and growling and yowling and thrusting, he mates with me until I felt his teeth pierce my shoulder. I feel him clenching and swelling deep within and I scream in pain and pure, raw pleasure. The male’s cum burns in my pussy as he fills me again and again. Blood soaks my shoulder. My ears fill with roaring. I push back once. Twice. And then, I loose myself to it.

My legs start shaking first, claws tearing strips from the carpet. I try to growl and hiss but bite my tongue instead as my hips began bucking uncontrollably. My thick, orange and black tail arches up and back, vibrating. It’s too much. Too much. I try to get away, paws scrabbling at the ground but the male holds me tight, muzzle vibrating around a growl against my shoulder.

After what feels like eons, my body lies still. I fall to my stomach, wincing and hissing as my aching breasts flatten again beneath me. I want to move but I can’t; my muscles ignore every command I send their way. Instead, I lay with my muzzle open and tongue out, panting while staring up at my mate. I’d forgotten about his fangs in my shoulder until he opens his mouth. Sharp, stinging pain lances into my neck and shoulder and I hiss at it, snapping at the air. Only when I feel the male’s tongue lashing against my bloody fur do I calm.

He cleans me as I had groomed him earlier. It feels good. It feels right. The tigress found her mate and now I knew what that felt like.

Once he’s finished cleaning me, he pulls me against his thick, furry chest and holds me. I breathe deeply, savoring our scents. And then, shifting slightly, I remember that he’s still inside of me. I want more. She wants more but I hurt too much and I don’t think I can move yet.

As the full moon moved slowly in the clear night sky, the two tigers slept, exhausted and satiated.

—–

When I wake the next morning, I knew Ben was already awake. We lay together, naked and human. Spooning as we had when we’d fallen asleep together in the night. His cock lay between my ass and it took every ounce of willpower not to wiggle back against him.

He was so warm.

What should I say? What could I say? Did he remember like I did? I have to say something.

“I hurt everywhere,” I say, feebly. It’s true. I ached. And, oh Jesus, my poor lady bits. I’d had sex with guys that were big and that was bad enough but this… this was different. And even then, I blushed at the vague, patchy memory of it. “I’m sor-”

“Did you just wake up?” Ben asks quietly.

“Yes,” I answer. “Ben, I’m sor-”

“Was this because of you?”

I hesitate. Ashamed. “Yes,” I say, my voice very small.

“Is it- is it permanent?”

“Yes,” I reply, even smaller. Silence filled the room. I feel terrible. Worse than I’d ever felt.

“Did you do it on purpose? To me, I mean.”

“No,” I told him quickly. “Well… no. Not exactly.”

I explain it to him. My trip. Being attacked. Being raped. Coming back and changing for the first time. Every full moon, just like the movies. The first time I’d had no idea and woke up in the middle of nowhere. The second time I’d locked myself in my room and woke up to a trashed room. I knew then I’d have to fight it. To work at it and try to control it.

Until I’d smelled him. Something about his scent had made me crazy. Pushed me over the edge. Despite knowing I should leave, I stayed and attacked him.

“I raped you, Ben,” I say, tears welling up. “Just like the creature did to me. I can’t…. I can’t apologize enough. I feel sick and I’m so-”

I cry. Unable to hold it in. And, despite it all, Ben pulls me closer. He holds me until I’ve exhausted myself. I lay there, ugly with tears and snot and occasionally hiccuping and he still holds me. His smooth, hairless chest is warm against my back and I can feel the slow, steady beat of his heart.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he tells me finally. “You didn’t know. You were trying to figure it out and didn’t know what would happen. I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault.”

I’d thought I was done crying but, I guess not. And I cry ugly, too. Really ugly. I’m very, very glad I’m the little spoon. This time, Ben strokes my hair until I calmed down.

“Do you,” Ben asks, pausing. “Do you want to grab some coffee? Well, I mean, uhhh, clothes first and then coffee? I think we need to talk about this. A lot.”

“Yeah,” I sniff, shifting to move.

“No,” Ben says quietly. I feel him press his face against my shoulder, burying his nose into my hair. “Not yet. You’re… you’re warm and comfortable and I just… I just need to be here a little longer. If- if that’s okay.”

I can’t speak. I just nod and press myself against him. For now, it’s enough. More than enough.