all else has long been forgotten

The first time you’d seen him was the day after a full moon. You’d been nursing your morning coffee when he had stumbled out of one of your blackberry bushes looking all sorts of messed up. For a moment, you thought that you had imagined it. Surely there hadn’t been a man sleeping in your bush.

A month later, you had seen him again. Except this time he hadn’t stumbled out of your bushes. No — instead you had found him leaning against the wall of your garden shed, bleeding heavily from his forehead.

You had learned that his name is Nick. Initially, he had told you that he’d simply gotten into a fight. You’d accepted the lie, not feeling like it was your place to question what this stranger told you. You had patched him up and made him a sandwich, insisting that he needed to eat something. That day, Nick had slipped out of your kitchen while you’d been out of the room for just a few minutes.

He’d returned almost exactly a month later.

Funnily enough, he’d been almost in the same shape too.

Once again, you had patched him up. Cleaning up his wounds while he told you about the scrap he got into this time. This time, he didn’t sneak out behind your back. Instead, he stayed for a little while, reluctantly eating the breakfast you presented him with. Watching him trying to keep his restraint up had been impossibly entertaining.

After that day, he had come around more frequently instead of just once every month. No matter how well you get to know him, you still don’t feel closer to figuring out why he keeps showing up all beaten up once a month. You’re sure that the injuries he shows up with keep getting worse. The fights he gets into seem to be getting worse, and you don’t know how this will end.

You have your suspicions of course. You’re not dumb. Him showing up like this after a full moon feels like a very obvious hint at his nature. Unless there’s secret fight club that only meets once a full moon, you’re inclined to believe that he’s one of them. You’ve heard the rumours about the lycanthropes that supposedly roam the forests around your town. You've always put them of as nothing more than rumours and folktales, but now that you're actually faced it, you’re forced to come to the realisation that perhaps it’s all true after all.

After almost a year you have the moon cycle marked in your calendar. And when the full moon rolls around you’re prepared to tend to his wounds. By now, Nick is a lot more relaxed. He’ll have his breakfast with you and on some days he’ll even have a nap in front of your fireplace.

To his disappointment the fireplace will be cold when he shows up this time. It’s the middle of July and summer has truly hit now. You’ll make sure that he has a comfortable spot to nap in nevertheless. The of the full moon always feels like it draws out for longer than normally. You can’t help but worry about Nick. Your mind keeps wandering, trying to imagine what kind of injuries he’ll show up with this time. Regardless of how bad it gets, you just can’t bring yourself to tell him not to come anymore. You’d rather have him come to you than deal with the aftermath on your own. At least that way, his wounds will be tended to properly.

Your sleep is restless that night.

You never sleep well during the full moon, but it feels so much worse tonight. You toss and turn all night, never quite finding satisfying rest. And when you wake in the morning, it feels as if you’ve barely slept at all.

As a first order of business, you drag yourself into the kitchen to get the coffee pot started. God knows you’ll need a lot of that today. So far, there’s no sight of Nick. Usually, he’ll already be seated on the porch, waiting for you to join him with a cup of coffee. You hope that he’s just late and that it’s nothing worse.

Once your coffee is ready, you pour yourself a cup and step out onto the porch.

It takes you a moment to spot the mass of black fur that is curled up on the outdoor sofa. What’s even more surprising, is that you seem to instinctively know that you’re looking at Nick. You don’t know why you’re so sure that it’s him — something about the figure just feels so very familiar. He doesn’t seem to notice your arrival. And even when you take a seat in the armchair next to him, his form remains entirely unmoved.

You’re sure that it’s been almost thirty minutes of you silently nursing your coffee before the wolf like creature finally begins to shift. As it begins to stretch and shift, you come to realise that he looks more like an oversized wolf dog than an actual wolf. The wolf lets out a hearty yawn, before it plops over onto its side. It’s face twists in a curious kind of surprise — as much as its possibly for a wolf to look surprised at least. You’re caught in this stalemate for a long moment, with neither of you sure of how to proceed with this. After a few seconds, you decide to reach out your hand for him. You move slowly, as if your approaching a dog you haven’t properly met yet, giving him room to retreat if necessary. But he doesn’t — and so you carefully let your fingers drift across the soft fur on the wolfs head. He leans into your touch, pressing his head against your palm.

“Nick?” you ask cautiously.

The wolfs head cocks to the side in response, indicating recognition.

“I’ll be honest this is a bit of a surprise.” You continue, “Probably should have known after you took a shower here and did that little shake dogs do when they’re wet.”

He lets out a little huff of protest and you can't help but laugh a little.

“Looks like this is really comfy for you, hm?”

Nick makes an affirmative noise.

“I planned breakfast for a guy not — a pup.” you say then, giving the fur on the top of his head a little ruffle, “I don’t know how this all works.”

You’re pretty sure that he frowns at you.

He lets out a little rumbling huff, before he leaps off the sofa. Nick trots off around the corner and out of your view. There’s an awful stretching sound from his direction. It almost sounds like something tearing and ripping. It only lasts for a few seconds, before you hear a deep sigh that sounds unmistakably like Nick.

“Could you hand me that blanket you have on that arm chair?” He calls from around the corner, “I’m a little — indecent at the moment.”

Your cheeks heat at his words. Your relationship has slowly moved into something beyond friendship but this is a leap forward you did not anticipate.

“Also I think your neighbour is looking at me.” He adds after a few seconds.

You shake yourself into action, before you can linger on the thought of him bare naked in your garden for too long. A moment later, Nick emerges from the little corner with the blanket wrapped around his waist. You’ve seen glimpses of the massive tattoo on his chest before. But this is the first time you can see it in all of its glory. The image of the eagle carrying what looks to be a trout covers almost his entire chest.

It’s gorgeous.

“I think I still have some stuff my brother left here. Should sort of fit you.” You say then, hoping that it’ll make your mind stop wandering.

“One of those weird ass raccoons dragged my stuff away while I was — usually they stay away from it but this one was looking for trouble.” He explains.

“Is that why you showed up like that?”

He nods, “Thought that would be less of a shock than naked guy on your porch without a warning.”

You have to give him that.

“I’ll explain everything. Trust me I didn’t want to jump this on you like that either.” He continues, “I was going to tell you eventually, but as you can imagine this isn’t something a lot of people take kindly to.”

Nick follows you into the kitchen, taking his now usual seat at your kitchen table.

“I had my suspicions to be honest.”

“What? Are you saying that a guy showing up all beat up after every full moon is suspicious?” He says with that little grin of his.

You feel the sudden urge to smack his shoulder.

“I never knew how to explain why I kept showing up like that. But you’ve always been so kind to me without any kind of judgement. Doesn’t happen very often.”

The idea that someone has met him with anything less than unconditional kindness makes your chest ache for him. Nick has been nothing but sweet and kind to you, and you can’t imagine treating him any differently.

“I couldn't imagine not helping someone in need like that. You were wounded, and it only made sense to help you.”

“And I’ll never forget that. You probably saved my life that day.” He says then, sounding somewhat solemn.

He lets out a sigh that says that he doesn’t want to go too much deeper into the topic. If it truly was as bad as he’d insinuated, you understand that he maybe doesn’t want to dwell on the memory.

Instead of digging deeper you make your way into your bedroom to dig out the clothes your brother had left behind during his last visit. You don’t know when he’ll make his way back here, so you’re not too concerned about it. As always, Nick asks you so sweetly if you’d mind it if he were to take a quick shower. And as ways, you tell him that he can take all the time he needs.

It’s a well practiced play by now.

Sometimes you wish that you could just break out of the lines you’ve rehearsed so diligently. But this feels safe — comfortable. You don’t know what you’d do if Nick would stop showing up one day, just because things had changed between you.

While Nick takes his shower, you start to work on the breakfast you’ll share. With how warm it’s been lately, you decide that it’d be nice to have breakfast out on the porch. Nick joins you just as you carry the plate of scrambled eggs and bacon outside. He doesn’t ask what needs to be done, instead he just picks up a couple of things and carries them outside alongside you.

Once you’ve set everything out, and you’ve poured both of you fresh cups of coffee you sit down next to Nick on the little outdoor sofa.

“I imagine you probably have a few questions?” He asks as you begin to dig in, “I don’t know how much I can actually answer but I’ll try.”

The list of questions in your head has grown spectacularly long within the last hour. Deciding where to start feels almost a little impossible.

“Just so we're both on the same side you’re a —”

“Werewolf.” He says with his mouth still full, “Lycanthrope. Whatever you wanna call it.”

The confirmation feels less daunting than you had imagined. Maybe you’ve always known somehow.

You nod, “Have you always been a — werewolf?”

Nick gives an affirmative hum.

“It’s a family thing. Big and complicated too. I don’t know which ancestor got himself into his pickle or how they managed it. All I know is that it's been in the family for a few generations. Back to my great grandfather for sure.” He explains.

“Are you close with your family?”

“Not really. I — haven’t seen them in a long time. I’m not too upset about it though. They left me behind because I didn’t grow fast enough for their liking. I was lucky enough to be found by a different pack before winter. They took me in and raised me. Wouldn’t want to imagine what things would be like if I had stayed with my family.”

“And the pack that raised you?” you ask.

“Greatest people I know. They went out of their way to take me in. They didn’t need to take care of me the way they did.” he continues to explain, “I’m glad that they were the ones who ended up raising me.”

“I think you turned out great.”

Nick gives you the brightest smile in response, “I think so too. I think I’d like you to meet them at some point — if that’s something you want.”

You feel caught for a moment, unsure where that particular step will lead you. Despite the insecurity that bubbles up in your chest you return his smile.

You’ve always felt safe around Nick. And even now that you know about his true nature you don’t feel scared or worried.

He puts down his cup of coffee, “Doesn’t have to happen soon and of course if you don’t want it that’s okay too.”

“I’d love to.” You finally reply, “Feels awfully like meeting the parents of your —”

His cheeks flush so brightly, “It does, doesn’t it?”

You sit in silence for a moment, the unspoken words simmering between you. The silence grows almost unbearably thick. Nick’s restless shifting is what finally gives you the push you needed to break it. It doesn’t take an expert in bodylanguage to know that there’s something he wants to say. One of you will have to take the plunge and it looks like it’ll have to be you.

“Would you want that?” you ask cautiously, ever worried that it’s all something you’ve imagined.

His eyes remain fixed on the edge of the table, forehead twisted into a frown you haven’t seen from him before.

“I don’t want to pull you into my mess. I’m already putting you into danger by spending so much time here.” he says quietly.

You feel a cold shiver running down your back, “What do you mean?”

“There are other things in these woods. Not nice things. Things that don’t like me and my kind and our pack. They’ve been trying to push us out and me being here has put a target on your back. I’m worried that they’ll try to do something to you to provoke me.”

"Do you really think that’s going to change something?”

He finally looks at you then, but his expression is still so very hard to read.

“That’s not going to stop me from helping you and it won’t change how I feel.” you say softly, “I’ve come to care a great deal for you and some woodland critter is not going to change that.”

He lets out a chortling laugh, “Don’t let the pixies hear that. They don’t love being grouped in with those things.”

You place your hand on top of his and Nick quickly laces your fingers together.

“You’ll have to explain all of this to me at some point.” you say, fixing him with a serious look.

Nick gives a quick nod.

“I will. In time. I’ll try my best to explain everything.” he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before he speaks again, “But now I would like to enjoy this morning with you.”

You can’t say no to him when he looks at you with those warm and kind eyes.

The morning continues to meander along without any disturbances. Things with Nick have always felt easy, but now that you’ve crossed this hurdle you feel so much more uninhibited. You’d agreed to take it slow, but it’s so terribly hard to keep your hands off him. You’ll respect his wish to wait of course, but in the meantime Nick seems to be more than happy with how affectionate you are with him.

You spent a good chunk of the day lazing around in the sun, simply enjoying each other company and this new found connection you have.

After lunch, Nick finally lets him drive you back to his place. So far, he’s always insisted on walking the distance, always finding some kind of reason why you shouldn’t drive him.

His little cabin sits at what you learn is the edge of a larger plot of land that you assume is own by his pack. It’s a comfy little place, the perfect kind of rustic.

You don’t stay for long, sensing that he needs to have a little time for himself and probably a good nights sleep.

“I’ll come around tomorrow, okay?” he says as you walk back to your car, “I’ll try to have some better answers for you by then too.”

“Don’t rush it. Maybe instead of devulging folkore secrets we could go to the diner and get something to eat?”

Nicks face softens at your words before he breaks into that pretty smile of his, “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“And what if I am?”

“If you are, I’m gonna say yes.”

“Good.” You reply with a smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nick captures your hand before you can step away from him.

“I’m glad we figured this out.” He says with a low voice, “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

You press a soft kiss to his cheek, “I’m glad that you stumbled into my garden.”

Suddenly, the idea of a broody, six foot plus man, broad with muscle, skulking around and being in your business almost twenty four hours a day didn’t seem nearly as unpleasant.

In your approach to him, you’d been direct. You arrived at his office alone and insisted on seeing him, even after one of his colleagues tried to turn you away with the excuse that he was busy with another client.

“I’ll wait.” You informed them, watching the young buck drag his palm down his face in frustration before finally relenting.

“Fine, but if he asks, you put up a fight.”

The soft Southern twang made him hard to place, but his boyish grin earned a smile from you and a quiet, “Thanks.”

You settled yourself in Noah’s office like you were the one in charge, not someone about to negotiate a deal while presenting yourself as a potential client. Truthfully, you’d never handled this aspect before. It had always been your father, while you sat back and never questioned it, at least until now, because now you were grown. You were older, with a place of your own, a life of your own, and you were growing tired of your father’s minions running back to tell Daddy what you were doing whenever you were away from home. You were an adult now. This was meant to be your chance at freedom, and yet you were still being babysat by the same men your father had hired years ago.

Something had to change.

When Noah finally arrived at his office, there was no greeting from him, nothing more than a brief glance in your direction while his coworker (employee, maybe? you still hadn’t figured out the hierarchy), tried to explain your presence.

“You’re in my office.”

Observant. That was good, at least.

“I am.” You nodded, hands resting neatly in your lap. “How perceptive of you.”

“You’re in my office…” he repeated.

You almost quipped back that you’d both already established that, but instead remained quiet and polite. Respectable, as your father had always drilled into you.

His head tilted, eyes narrowing as his face scrunched slightly. “Why are you in my office?”

“Because I’ve come to give you a job.”

A scoff was his only response. No request for more information. No introduction. Just a scoff.

He seemed disinterested, and truthfully, maybe that was part of the appeal. It only made you more determined to insist he’d take the job. Your name carried weight. Introductions weren’t usually necessary, and when they were, what followed was recognition, then complete and utter cooperation.

Not with Noah.

He didn’t even flinch when you mentioned your surname. He merely continued pottering around the office as though your presence were an inconvenience.

In a way, it probably was.

He looked fresh from the gym, yet he didn’t apologise for the sight of himself. His hair was damp with sweat, combed back through with his fingers, while his fitted gym shirt clung to his broad frame. It was dark enough that any sweat stains were hidden, and if there was any scent lingering on him, all you caught was the faint trace of something sweet and musky beneath what you could easily identify as a citrus body spray.

Walking around his desk, he leaned casually against the edge of it, positioning himself directly in front of you. It was an imposing sight. The way he effortlessly towered over you, looking intimidating even while completely at ease.

“And why should I work for you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said you want to offer me a job, so…” One shoulder lifted in a lazy shrug. “Why should I work for you?”

You’d already rambled off your reasons for needing him, and somehow that hadn’t seemed to catch his attention. It made you wonder if this was some kind of trick question, a twisted thrill he got from humiliating potential clients.

He must have seen the cogs turning because, with a slow exhale, he threw you a bone. “Why do you want me? Why not someone else?”

That was an easy answer.

“Because you’re the best of the best.”

That caught his attention. His brows lifted, his head tilting thoughtfully from side to side as though he couldn’t exactly disagree. It was an ego stroke, though he didn’t bask in it or fish for more.

“You’re right, but flattery won’t get me to agree to being hired.”

“But a decent sized pay cheque?”

“It could sway the decision.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “But I’m not money hungry either.”

Dismissive, yet honest. That made for a trustworthy ally, something you desperately needed among the sharks you frequently swam with. If anything, it only strengthened your determination.

“I need someone with your expertise.” Your voice softened. “Please… would you at least reconsider?”

The silence that settled between you was uneasy, leaving you with the distinct feeling of being studied. Noah’s dark eyes remained fixed on you, assessing every inch before he finally pushed himself away from the desk. He rounded your chair and headed toward the open office door.

“Folio, if you would please show Ms…”

Turning slightly, you called over your shoulder, filling in the blank with your surname.

“Ah, yes…” His tone remained maddeningly flat. “If you would please show them out.”

At that moment, the same young buck who’d greeted you earlier appeared in the doorway, gesturing politely for you to follow.

Reluctantly, you rose from your seat. As you approached Noah and slowly walked past him, your eyes met his. He hadn’t given you a no, nor had he given you a yes, yet somehow, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wouldn’t be your final meeting.

You’d only made it a few steps toward the staircase leading up and out of the old boxing gym before Noah called after you both.

“And if you could take down their number. We can make the arrangements at a later date.” Not quite a yes, but probably the closest you were ever going to get from a man as stubborn as him.

Before stepping out of the building, you handed your personal business card to Folio. “Tell him I’ll be waiting for his call.”

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