Awareness, Acknowledgment, and Goals

I had taken it for a passing shower. It was not a shower.

Watching the rain only grow heavier, that was the conclusion I reached.

A scrap of important information drifted out of the forecast I had flipped on for a moment.

Dawn tomorrow.

That was fine enough. No real problem. However hard it poured now, I had nowhere to be tonight.

The problem was…

"…So, Cecilia?"

"Uugh."

This cat, plastered to my side and refusing to let go.

From the arm she had locked around me came a sensation soft beyond reason. Truly—mm—soft enough to shake a man's composure. Yielding. That intoxicating marriage of spring and give.

…In short, her chest was pressed against me.

She had clung to me before, more than once, but never this tightly.

"…Are you going to let go?"

"I just wanna sleep like this…"

"No, look—"

My heart hammered. A sidelong glance showed Cecilia crushing her chest ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into my arm, ears twitching, eyes squeezed shut. Fresh from the shower, a sweet scent teased my nose.

I could neither stand nor sit up properly—an exquisitely awkward predicament. All I could manage was to fidget my legs under the covers.

"Cecilia…. You should still sleep on the bed."

For the record, we were not on the bed. We were on the futon spread across the floor—my usual sleeping place.

"I wanna sleep here. Let's sleep together…"

At that mumbled follow-up, my eyelids twitched.

Sleeping together itself… well, there were issues, but not catastrophic ones. We had shared a bed once before, after all. She had been drunk then—a difference, but not a decisive one.

The real problem was—

"…Hyaak?!"

"Ugh. Whoa—hold on!"

This.

Outside the window, the sky flashed white. A split second later, a crack of thunder rolled through the room. Cecilia flung herself at me even harder. My vision spun once; when I came to, I was staring at the ceiling, sprawled flat on the futon.

"Hnn…"

And over me lay a warm, living weight. Weight and heat that proved she was alive.

Was the problem that Cecilia was hugging me?

Of course that was a problem. A cute girl had just climbed straight on top of a man—how could it not be?

But there was a larger problem still. I had said it once already; I would say it again:

"…Hik?! Cecilia, wait—!"

Right now, the closeness was worse than it had ever been.

Two trembling hands wound around my body and hauled me in without mercy. Her hair brushed my cheek; her soft lips skimmed the side of my neck. Her full chest crushed against me. One of her legs slipped between mine and held a distance so precarious I could scarcely put it into words.

One careless shift and something would touch. I will not say what.

The last time we slept side by side, she had been shy. Even when she was drunk or otherwise clinging to me, some scrap of reason had always remained. She would press close, yes—but she kept a minimum of space.

And now?

"Uh… uuh…"

No brakes. To put it bluntly, she was throwing her whole body at me with zero reverse gear. Probably the first time since our very first meeting, when she had been completely blackout drunk.

The feel of her skin registered more vividly than ever. The thud of her heart and the sound of her breathing echoed in my ear. Weight, warmth, pliancy, softness—and the sensuality born of all of it. Instinctive heat. "Dizzying" did not cover it. This was—

I had to put distance between us. That came first. That was what I told myself.

"Ceci—"

I opened my mouth.

Earlier I had wondered whether the heavens had it in for Cecilia today. I needed to revise that. They seemed to have it in for me as well.

As if it had been waiting for the perfect beat, the loudest thunder yet cracked overhead.

"…!!"

A scream that never became sound tore from her, and she clung tighter still.

"Mph…!"

At the even more precarious press of her body, my eyes flew wide. An unbearably soft sensation sealed over my mouth. Hanging half onto my head, she crushed her chest against my face. At the same time something brushed lightly against my thigh, that strange, yielding ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠softness luring me without quarter.

Desire and heat surged up through my skull. My head swam in her sweet scent. Blood rushed; thought went blank. For one brief instant I was seized by the urge to simply pull that soft body into my arms and hold on.

I wanted to fill my hands with that pliant chest. I wanted to set my teeth gently against that white throat. How happy would it feel to trace that soft skin with my hands, with my lips? How good would it feel?

We were not lovers. We were cohabitants in a thoroughly peculiar arrangement.

If I crossed the line—what then?

"…Ugh."

I could not deny the moment of hesitation. I could not hide that I had thought, What if I just did it?

It is your fault for being so cute and so alluring. If only I could make that excuse stick.

"Ceci—lia…!"

I could not. The last of my reason refused.

"Wha—…?"

I wrung every scrap of strength I had and pushed her off. Catching my balance and shoving, I sent her body rolling away onto the futon beside me.

"Haa…!"

I exhaled and sat up. Suddenly cast aside, Cecilia looked dazed—frightened, yet puzzled—as she rubbed her own shoulder.

"What is it, Eunhyuk? Ah. Did I hug you too hard…?! I—I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking…"

Her reaction was more or less what I had expected.

Wasn't thinking. Yes. That was how it looked. Hours of thunder had already left her unstable. Hugging me, talking, even a warm shower—none of it could help while the storm kept cracking overhead. And that last enormous peal had been the breaking point. It had snapped what remained of her reason.

In itself, that was perfectly natural. Had Cecilia done something wrong? Absolutely not. She had only been terrified, and she had grabbed whatever was nearest. Eyes clenched shut, not even knowing what she was touching, she had simply held on. In that single moment I had been nothing more to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her than a warm pillow. Utterly pure.

"…Cecilia."

"Y-yes?"

Pure—and that was precisely why it was dangerous. A relationship between a man and a woman cannot stand on purity alone.

"…I think we need to be a little more careful about physical contact."

Ordinarily her guard was nowhere near this low. When she was touched, or when something was half-shown, she blushed like anyone else. But on an unconscious level, the boundary was thin. She had not fundamentally grasped that the person in front of her was a wolf.

"Physical contact… meaning?"

"…Until just now, your chest was against my face."

I put it as bluntly as I could. Cecilia's face went scarlet in a rush. She could not even make a sound—only worked her mouth open and shut.

"J-just a little…?"

"Full-on. Soft, and completely covering my mouth…"

"W-waaah—! Stop!"

Face ready to burst, she cried out, then clamped her lips shut and stared at me with a look that was half plea.

"Uuugh…"

"…"

My own face was probably every bit as red as hers. My fingertips tingled. My cheeks burned as if on fire. Swallowing the shame that boiled up, I forced the words out.

"Treat your body carefully."

"…Okay."

Honestly, I knew. I was the odd one out. Turning down a meal already set on the table did not begin to cover it. Call me a eunuch and I would have no defense.

But I was scared. Afraid that if I crossed that line, we might never get back even to what we had now. Afraid of losing forever this easy, comfortable state between us. Touching the line called sex terrified me that much.

In the end, I was every bit as much a coward as Cecilia.

During her last heat, my head had been full of only one thought: do not touch her. I would stake anything on it—if I had put my hands on her then, our relationship would already have twisted beyond repair.

And if I put my hands on her now?

We were close enough that the relationship would probably have held. "Held," yes. And an awkwardness that never quite washed off would have lingered forever.

All right. Time to admit it.

I admit it.

I like Cecilia. This cute, beautiful girl—I like her as a woman. It was close to love at first sight. I do not want to lose her. I want her to myself. The mere fact that I felt this way was enough to startle me.

That is why I want to treat her carefully. Why I do not want to handle her carelessly.

And…

…Ah. I see. I know what I have to do. How perverse, that only after admitting it does the path open.

"So, Cecilia. Slightly different question…"

"Mm…"

I asked carefully.

"Back when we had only just met—when you asked, 'You're not going to kill me, right?'—what did you mean by that?"

I still did not know this girl. Of course I knew some things. She liked alcohol, liked sweets, liked books, and for some reason liked my scent. Her tongue was a cat's tongue. She took long, leisurely showers. Other people's gazes made her uneasy. She was full of wariness. She walked fast. She had no idea how beautiful she was. She was surprisingly strong. Surprisingly heavy.

But her past?

That was what she had said not long after we met.

I had heard fragments. But I did not know the concrete past. She had lived as a wanderer, she said. From the moment I heard that, I had wondered: why? Why a life of wandering? What about a home? Friends? A hometown? Family?

Family relations: unknown.

That was what she had written on the questionnaire during the personal background check. What did "unknown" mean? What had happened?

"…"

There was no answer. Only silence. And from that silence a sticky darkness seeped out.

I want to be her lover. I will not hide that anymore.

But becoming lovers comes only after I have gathered up every one of her wounds.

"Sorry for asking something strange."

"No, it's not—…. …Mm."

I reached out and stroked her ear. Her expression loosened at once.

"That was easy."

"…I am not an easy woman, you know…?"

I said it with a playful wink, and Cecilia answered with a sulky little protest of her own. We both smiled hard, trying to sweep the mutual embarrassment out of the air.

"It's already past midnight."

"Hm? …Oh, it really is."

"And the rain's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stopped."

Listening to the quieted wind, both of us nodded. Cecilia stretched once, long and slow, and let out a yawn.

"Sleepy?"

"Yeah…. Without the thunder, it's pretty…"

The more tightly she had been wound, the faster she came undone. As her eyes drifted shut, I drew the blanket over her.

"…? Can I sleep here…?"

"You don't look like you have the strength to climb onto the bed. It's fine. I'll take the bed tonight."

After a brief hesitation, she nodded. I nodded back and shifted myself up onto the mattress.

"Good night, Cecilia."

"Mm…"

At that hazy voice I chuckled under my breath. Settling onto the bed for the first time in a while, I found myself looking out the window at the sky. It was deeply, thoroughly black. But the clouds had broken open.