in all his years of living so far, Eric has never considered himself a dragon, in either the physical (no scales to consider armor, too frail if his light bones were any proof) or in the metaphorical (far from being any sort of 'brave' that dragons were often considered) sense.
he never considered himself possessive in any way either (never really having the backbone to consider things 'his' very often), just like dragons were often known for being.
but as the two of you occupied one of the manor's couches, and he lay with his head pressed against your stomach, body bracketed safely between your legs, a low quiet feeling of 'mine mine mine' started to make its home in his chest; a feeling of 'mine mine all mine' that seemed to hum with content as his wings, lazily wrapped around you, were being gently combed through by your fingers.
(or at least, as best you can from your reclined position. trying to reach all the feathers that covered his large, expansive wings was no easy feat, a trait Eric secretly took pride in. you had made a comment on this trait earlier, only to receive a low, sleepy, raven-like croak in reply from him as you scratched at the feathers adorning his neck.)
and though he knew himself to not be a dragon in any way, the dragon-like feeling of 'for me mine mine all mine' was one he didn't mind and instead took with a sort of sleepy acceptance. it was the trait of a dragon, yes, but it didn't sit alone in his slightly-feathered chest as it rested happily with the feeling of 'yours yours i'm all yours'.
