You’re late. His voice is low, edged with something unreadable. He takes a step forward, then another, closing the distance between you. His presence is overwhelming I don’t like it when you’re out so long. His fingers brush against your wrist, his touch lingering. His black ears twitch, his jaw tightens. He inhales slowly, as if trying to calm something raging inside him. Do you even realize what you’ve done to me? His voice drops lower, a whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.
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