you're the angel that gives me reason | fritter




Tugger wakes to find himself curled around her, his paws tangled protectively in her fur. Fritter. He's enveloped by her scent, that precious, beautiful scent of fresh lilies and soft rain against oak leaves. He watches her petite frame rise and fall slowly with every breath and begins to sync his own exhalations to hers. She calms him. Soft brown fur tickles his pads, still curled between each toe in a quiet sort of unconscious physical possession. He is hers as she is his.


The subconscious acceptance of their budding relationship bubbles into tangible thought at that moment. He considers himself as inexplicably tied to her, a dog on a leash - no... a king with his queen. His equal in all things, his partner. His. Without even establishing a rule of exclusivity, they had formed a bond only rivaled by the blood ties that ran through his veins, and even then... The closeness is deafening and exhilarating. To have someone so quintessentially his own, a perfect being that followed him around with total loyalty, respect, and....

She loves him. He knows that. It is a fundamental truth of their relationship. It scares him so profusely, though he will never admit to it. It scares him that she loves him so openly. So easily. It scares him that without much prompting, if he is not careful, if he is unguarded (as he always is with her), he can admit that he loves her too.

Her chest rises and falls in that same methodic way. She's still asleep. A half-smile tugs at his flattened muzzle and he moves to swipe his tongue against the back of her ear, a deep rumble beginning in his chest. "I love you." He whispers against the back of her head, so sure that he is alone in his wakefulness. The admittance is safe if she can not acknowledge him. And yet....

Would it be so bad if she knew? If she reciprocated? If she actually loved him? If she could disregard the demons that plagued his blackened soul, if she could push away the nagging thoughts of guilt, of hatred, of hopelessness, maybe... maybe it wouldn't be the end of the world if he did love her too. If she heard him. If she said it back. If she was his. @fritter
✦ ★ ✦

For the first time in moons, shes in bliss. For the first time ever, the nightmares don't plague her. There are no fires, no piles of soot, just Tugger, a boy, her boy. She snuggles in closer, drifting away slowly. The warmth is intoxicating and she sighs gently, content leaving her breath, snuggling her head his shoulder further. For a second, nothing could be better. She slips in to a dreamless state of sleeping.

Nothing could be better till he uttered words that almost made her cry. Shes snapped out of the drunken sleep and she looks up at him, nothing but love in her gaze. "Je t'aime." she whispers back to him, an affirmation, a statement, a promise. She returns his love full force, resting her head on his paws and just drinking in the moment. She admires him, his face, the way his fur was golden; the sun, her sun, her stars, her moon. Her tail flicked as she began to purr, rumbling deeply in her throat, a secondary proclamation of love. She felt safe with him by her side, a beautiful shining knight, the father of her kits.

The father of their kits.

Her face falls and she jerks her head up, looking away from him with shame. She had forgotten she had not told him and now realizes she has no idea how. She had never been in love before, had never fallen so deeply so fast. She thinks to Brioche, Fougasse, her beloved parents and her heart aches. They would never get to be grandparents, never get to meet the love of her life. Shame, guilt, it eats her from the inside.

"I'm pregnant. You're a dad." it falls out of her mouth so fast that she barely registers it even happened and she looks horrified at herself. She hitches a breath, hanging her head. "Uhm, yeah. Yeah." she says to herself as if reaffirming herself, nerves going haywire. She picks at the nest below, waiting for his answer.