(I’m sorry for the pic. I found it, and couldn’t help myself.)
“What is it?” A sleepy Minseok draped himself over your shoulder to look down at today’s black-wrapped box. He took your daily gift with equanimity, often even more excited for you to open the gifts than you were.
When he had first arrived, he was quiet and polite, neat almost to a fault (after a few days of telling him that he wasn’t there to be the maid, you gave up and allowed him to clean and rearrange everything to his liking), but had very much kept physically to himself.
That hadn’t bothered you–after all, he was a lynx hybrid, not a wolf–you knew that he tended toward needing a while to warm up to people. But since that day that he had returned home to a dumbfounded you, sitting on the couch, mentally unable to process good news, he had become a lot more comfortable with skinship.
Meanwhile you were just glad that he had agreed to let you take him into your home, because now you could barely remember life without him. Yes, you had to be extra quiet to prevent neighbourly snitchery, but you hadn’t realized how much you craved companionship until you sat down on your bed one night, and tried to come up with a plan to help him get on his feet and live on his own.
An impromptu shower had kept him from hearing you cry.
“Kitten,” Minseok purred softly into your ear, “Where is your mind? I want to see what’s in the box.”
“Hm? Oh, right…the box,” you said, distracted by the feel of his rumbling chest pressed against your back. For your sanity’s sake, you almost missed the days that he kept you at arm’s length, as it seemed as if every new day he found some way to torture you with his closeness. But you knew that you couldn’t read too much into it. It was his feline nature, it had nothing to do with you, aside from the fact that you made him comfortable.
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