It's early, sometime around a new moon and right after dawn. Khalil sleeps on his side, head more tucked against his outstretched arm than the pillow. The bandaged hand is close enough to touch Loup's hair and the werewolf's shifting causes his dark eyes to flutter open. He gives Loup a sleepy little smile and his injured finger tips brush through the hair that's fallen into Loup's face during sleep.
There had been a little bit of a shake-up, Khalil getting hurt when a jack slipped-- not enough to be really bad, but enough that Loup didnāt feel right leaving him home alone. Loup likes the mechanic, has a little room ( a very little room, most of his living room an over-sized dog-cage, and just the one bedroom ), doesnāt mind the company. He made dinner, went on a run before bed, promised to show Khalil his workshop in the morning. It was good.
Loup has been awake off and on for most of the night, now, listening to Khalilās breathing and the storm muttering outside.
The bed isnāt a problem. Heās gone camping with Khalil, has slept closer to him there than here. Itās fine and friendly and practical.
The problem is that Loup spends a lot of time avoiding strong emotional reactions, and Kahlil makes him feel...some kind of way. Not--bad, exactly. Theyāre friends. Itās friendly. But he doesnāt know what to do with it, and it makes him nervous in the way that spells trouble.
Khalil brushes his hair and thatās--okay. Thatās fine, except his jacket is on the chair by the door and he can feel the prickle of claws underneath his fingertips. Loup is trying, is getting better at being near people, needs to be elsewhere for a little while.
( between the rain and spooking his good friend with a few hundred pounds of sudden wolf, heāll take getting soaked any day. )
āGoing to go. Jog. Be back later.ā
