Macaque sighed as he stepped closer to the edge of the rock you both were standing on, looking down over towards the sea—it wasn’t a big drop in the slightest, maybe a few feet, so really he shouldn’t have had much to be frightened of. But he didn’t like it, didn’t like the water, the sea, none of it. “I think we’d have a much better time in some fancy restaurant.” He sighed, glaring directly at you.

One thing he liked about being alone with you, much to your surprise, was that he could let down his glamor for just a few still moments, and actually feel like himself. His ears felt a lot more sensitive now that they weren’t being hidden by magic, he felt much more sensitive physically. It was like being nude without the whole clothes off thing, at least to him anyway.

But like any couple several years into a relationship, was nudity really something to be so ashamed of?

No, it wasn’t, Macaque gave you that trust of seeing him with his glamor down, the deep scar that covered near half of his face, nothing short of having been mutilated by someone he cared so much for in the past. Not only the scar, but any other little misfortunes he was born with, or had received in his life.

Though he might have found himself ugly, you certainly did not.

“You really expect me to jump off of this thing? That’s like fifty feet..” he crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes as his tail began to flicker at the tip in irritation. He was just being dramatic as always though. That was something he never had to hide.