Simon heard her before he saw her.

Her footsteps were always light—practically bouncing—paired with the soft swish of her tail and a hum that drifted through the hallway like she didn’t have a care in the world. It was ridiculous how quickly his ears perked at the sound. Ridiculous how fast his instincts went from dull and tired to alert, focused, pulled forward like she had a string tied around his ribs.

He had just stepped out of his apartment when she turned the corner, nearly colliding with him.

She froze mid-step, tail popping straight up in surprise before it swayed in delighted recognition.

“Oh! Simon!” She beamed, practically glowing. “Good morning! Or evening? You look like you haven’t slept, so maybe it’s both?”

He blinked down at her. Her energy hit him like sunlight—warm, bright, blinding in the best way. She was so tiny next to him that her head barely reached his chest. His shadow covered her completely.

And she didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Evenin’,” he murmured, voice low, rough from disuse.

She rocked on her heels, tail swishing in quick little motions—happy ones. Wolves didn’t do small, quick tail wags unless they really liked someone. Maybe she didn’t realize she was doing it.

Simon definitely realized.

“What’s got you so cheerful?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Her grin widened. “I baked cookies!”

Cookies.

Of course she did.

She lifted a small container up toward him with both hands like she was presenting an offering to some massive, muscle-bound deity.

“I made extras and thought… maybe you’d want some?” she asked, ears twitching hopefully. “You always look like you forget to eat properly and, um… you know. You’re big. Probably takes a lot of food to keep all that…” Her eyes flicked over his arms, shoulders, chest. She flushed. “All that muscle running.”

Simon felt heat crawl up the back of his neck.

He took the container carefully—two fingers and a thumb were enough to dwarf the entire thing.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly, throat tightening. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” Soft. Happy. Honest.

His chest tightened again.

She stepped closer without hesitation, peering up at him with bright eyes. “Actually… I was just about to make tea. If you want one to go with the cookies? I mean—you don’t have to stay. You’re probably tired or busy or brooding or something—”

“I’m not brooding.”

She giggled. “You’re definitely brooding.”

His ears flicked back in mild offense. “Am not.”

“You totally are,” she teased, bumping her shoulder against his arm—lightly, but even that small contact made his instincts surge. His tail gave one slow sweep behind him before he could stop it.

Her eyes darted to it and her smile turned soft and warm in a way that made his heart thud hard.

She stepped even closer, close enough that her scent wrapped around him like warmth.

“So… tea?” she offered again. “You could sit with me for a bit? Keep me company? I—I like when you’re around.”

He went still. Too still. The words hit him like a blow—gentle but devastating.

She liked when he was around.

Most people avoided him. Gave him space. Treated him like he was all teeth and violence.

But she leaned closer, tail brushing his leg, eyes bright with something undeniably fond.

“I like bein’ around you too,” he admitted quietly.

Her breath caught. He heard it. Felt it.

She opened her apartment door, stepping aside and tilting her head in a way that was instinctively inviting—trusting, warm, welcoming him into her space.

Simon hesitated for only a moment.

Then he moved toward her—slow, careful—and ducked under the doorway.

She followed him inside, tail wagging happily.

“We can share the cookies,” she said. “And maybe…” She peeked at him shyly. “You can tell me about your day?”

He felt his chest soften, the tension he always carried beginning to ease.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I can do that.”

She smiled up at him, bright and sweet.

And for the first time all day, Simon felt something he hadn’t felt in years.

Light.