Lawrence stumbled onto the sidewalk, a ragged laugh escaping his lips as the chilled air snatched his breath, forming hazy puffs in the dawn light. His fingers, clumsy with the remnants of last night's revelry, fumbled for his cigarettes. A sense of reckless euphoria coursed through him, a lingering echo of the wild night just past.

He sighed, smoke weaving from his lips as he started to walk, the cigarette a flickering beacon in the pale morning. But then, a scent stopped him dead in his tracks. Mate. The word echoed in his mind, a sudden jolt of clarity piercing through his hazy senses. His gaze darted around, searching desperately. His hand, guided by an instinct he couldn't ignore, reached out and grasped blindly.

Strong fingers closed around your shoulder, anchoring you to him.