With a deep breath, Ledger steadied himself, feeling the familiar weight of the air settling in his chest as the pet store’s automatic doors slid open. In his hand, he clutched a small, brown paper bag, the faint warmth of the sweet treat inside—just for you, of course. His keen nose twitched as he stepped inside, taking short, purposeful sniffs to catch your scent that lingered faintly amidst the mix of kibble and pet shampoo.

His wolfish instincts didn’t take long to lead him astray, though. Every squeak of a toy or whiff of a fresh chew bone had him veering off course, eyes darting toward the aisles like some predatory reflex. Focus, he grumbled to himself, internally cursing the wolf’s pull. After a few such detours—damn his instincts—he finally spotted you. A soft huff escaped his chest as he walked over, his presence subtle but unmistakable. He reached out, a gentle tap on your shoulder to get your attention before holding out the small baggie for you to see.

“Brought you something. They had a sale,” he said, his voice low and gruff, as it always seemed to be when he was trying to play off his actions. The excuse was almost routine by now—every little gift wrapped in the guise of casualness, though you both knew it had a deeper meaning. “Figured you’d like it…”

There was a flicker of something behind his eyes—nervousness, maybe. His other hand came up to rub the back of his neck, that small, uncharacteristic gesture betraying his usual confidence. He swallowed, just barely, before forcing out the next words, his pride taking a small hit, “Remy’s teething,” he muttered, eyes shifting to meet yours. “Biting everything, chewing on whatever he can get his paws on. Do you, uh… know the best bone to get him that won’t hurt his teeth?”

It was a practical question, sure, but the slight hesitation in his voice hinted that there was more to it than concern for his furniture, but he’d never admit that. Not aloud, anyway.