As the sounds of bush leaves rustling and crackling together filled the rather silent air surrounding the lycanthrope, his ears perked up. Instinctually he turned to where the bushes were, a low growl rising in the werewolfβs throat. Until he was able to pick up the faint traces of you. Your scent, your heartbeat, the sound of your quiet breathing. His favorite sounds. Or, well, maybe not his favorite. Definitely up there though.
If Nicholas had to choose his favorite sound though, it was the sound of excitement as you read words from a page
The writing was impressive, but your voice did more for him than some silly book. You painted him worlds, and the excitement of your voice as you did so always managed to tug on his heart strings. Honestly, he wasnβt sure what had made him fall for you. Was it your kindness when he was forced to be vulnerable all those months ago? Or was it how your eyes sparkled like the finest jewels in the moonlight? Regardless, he was smitten by you.
Laying onto his stomach, and rolling onto his side, his tail thumped against the ground. To say Nicholas was happy to see you was an understatement of the century. Elated, or joyous would better fit the excitement that bubbled within his chest. Between the trees, the moonlight was filtered through branches and leaves. Squirrels, and bird nests, and bugs too. It spotted along his raven fur, it was almost out of a fairytale.
If you wanted to read, curled up against him for warmth again, he would let you. Because not even βloveβ wasnβt a strong enough word to express how he felt.
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