It was Wednesday, the 21^st of August, and I was doing my very best to try and calm down. I was in the large, quadruped-only bathroom, situated in a nearby shopping centre, as the café I'd been in earlier didn't have one that fit me. In truth, I didn't actually need the bathroom; I just needed somewhere private, but being away from James certainly helped steel my nerves.

All day had I caught myself attempting physical contact, be that brushing up against him, bumping him, or even more egregious—literally pinning him when he'd sat against me in the booth. Of course, I assumed he didn't know the meaning of such an action, but still... I felt guilty. I felt I'd used him to satisfy my own flailing emotions.

Despite the strength of our scales and the sharpness of our claws, touch was everything to dragons.

It wasn't his fault, nor was it mine, I told myself. It was getting warmer; I could feel it in my itching horns and aching stomach. It meant heat was dawning on the of-age females. The weeks leading up weren't too bad, but that didn't mean it was easy. Emotions and instincts surged drastically, and James being so kind and accepting only worsened them. He was always there, always willing to talk and to help.

Had I not gathered my willpower and shoved him away earlier, I'd have likely bitten his neck and put him on his back.

A harrowing thought.

He might…

I shook my head and turned up the pressure on the cold tap, blasting the heated scales of my cheeks, physically cooling me down, and distracting me from such predatory thoughts. Worse still was the fact that the base of my horns were getting painful, a clear sign that they were starting their growth once more. I made a mental note to get the shaving blade from Samys when I got back home, lest I end up looking ridiculous by solstice time.

I felt myself frowning at the mention of my cousin, or more specifically, the mess she had nearly made of Jarys' birthday party. 

Still… It had ended up alright—James had even brought the hatchling a gift—a Lego set that allowed him to build either a red dragon or some sort of bird. 

The fuzzy feeling I'd felt in my stomach when I'd watched them build it together... It was part of the reason I'd asked him to meet me and hang out.

With one last splash of freezing water, I removed my snout from the sink basin and shook my scales free of the cool liquid. I unlocked the door and pushed it open with my head, only to bump into a small mess of feathers and fur.

I took a confused step back, realising that a gryphon of all creatures had invaded my personal space. “S-Sorry," she stammered, her accent odd through the small beak sat squat on her wide face. “I didn't think there would be anyone here." She tried to quickly squeeze by, her sleek feathers daring to brush past me. I snarled rudely and strode forward, easily knocking her smaller frame aside, earning a disgruntled, fearful squawk.

With a slight huff to my breath, I hurried back to the café, heat-induced paranoia telling me that my friend would search what exactly pinning meant and would be trying to leave. This was, of course, pure insanity, but still, it put an anxious pep in my trot.

After entering the coffee house, I quickly galloped to James and found him with a half-eaten croissant lodged in his mouth, thin fingers busy with a loud, block-matching game on his phone. I swallowed, forcing down my nervousness, and slid back into my seat. “You started without me?" I asked.

James looked up, head tilted, before blinking, a look of realisation washing over him. He wiped the crumbs from his mouth with a napkin before pointing at my side of the table, eyes on the uneaten croissant I'd missed, which was sat upon a white plate, a small block of butter off to the side.

“I thought we were sharing?" I questioned, the query sounding more upset than I'd meant it to.

He placed the remainder of his food back on his own plate. “We are sharing," he said simply. “This one is mine, and that one is yours."

I felt my ears flick back. “Oh," I breathed out, stretching my long body across the soft leather seating. It felt colder without his presence. “I thought you meant that we would split one pastry and then split another."

He turned his phone off and placed it into his coat pocket. “Um, sure... that sounds fine with me." He pushed his plate forward, granting me the remainder of his meal. I reciprocated by tearing mine in half with my claws and passing him the larger half. “Thanks," he hummed, taking a gentle bite of the pastry.

I swallowed mine in one long, serpentine gulp. James glanced over, squinting at the gesture. “You should really chew your food, Alys. Gonna get yourself a stomach ache."

“Nope!" I chirruped, flashing my fangs at him cheerfully.

James took one last drink of his coffee, finishing it off in a single gulp. “Some weirdo came up to whilst you were out," he said, placing the glass back down. “Emo-looking guy. I think he was listening to us, cause he knew our names."

“I think he was just jealous that you've got such a good-looking dragon with you." I forced a grin and raised my head up. “I can't blame him."

“I guess," he said, smiling faintly at the quip. “Oh!" He sat back up, eyes widened with clear excitement. “I saw a gryphon." The joy in his voice sent a rush of irritation through me, stirring the early anger. “Grey feathers, yellow eyes, super fluffy. I've never seen one before." I knew exactly what creature he was referring to.

Pridefully, I'd expected him to wholeheartedly agree with me that he was in fact with a good-looking dragon, and so his change of topic to a rival race bothered me greatly. “Eh, they're not that impressive," I said, shrugging my wings. “Small wings and smaller claws."

Some of his excitement faded, which both made me happy and guilty. “I, um, guess, but aren't they super rare? Apparently most of them ended up in East Europe."

Stop talking about them!

“I think," I muttered dismissively. "But they're nowhere near as interesting as us. I mean, they're just dull birds, they..." I stopped myself, finally noticing the uncomfortable look he was giving me.

“Alys," he said slowly, cautiously, hands folded over one another. “Have you got a problem with gryphons or something? I think I remember you calling them clipped claws earlier." He paused, looking me square in the eyes. “Is that a friendly term, or..." His words made my stomach twist.

“It's, uh, mostly? I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so mean-sounding," I apologised, as though he were an upset gryphon and not a concerned human. “I just... I was playing a-and pushed it too far. I'm sorry," I lied, desperate not to have him thinking less of me.

He blinked, eyes searching. “Right, um, okay." He tried to take another drink but found that his glass was empty and so put it back down with a quiet sigh and a quirk of his mouth. Quickly, I shoved my half-full glass forward, resulting in it spilling dramatically over the table. With a squawk, I sat up, twisting my body awkwardly as I grabbed at a bundle of paper tissues.

James climbed out of the booth and grabbed another table's tissues, helping me wipe up the mess. “Careful, these glasses tip really easily. Sorry about your drink; I know you were just trying to share." It felt like, and likely was, that he was placating me, which only served to worsen the painful tension in my chest. In less than five minutes, I'd messed up what had been a near-perfect day out with my closest friend.

“Sorry," I said again, trying and failing to ignore the sting in my eyes.

“It's fine," he answered, looking me over. “I can get you another one if you want. It's no big deal—it can even be in a takeout cup so you can walk around with it."

I slid out, tail sore from my awkward positioning. “It's okay; I already drank most of it." I ran a paw against the base of my throbbing horns, the stress causing them to ache more than they had been. “Sorry, I didn't mean to make everything so weird."

After throwing the wet papers in a bin and handing our glasses back to the employees, we left the café. “Nah, we're cool; I was just surprised about the whole gryphon thing." He clicked his tongue and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Sounds like something Samys would say, honestly."

“Ah, that stings," I murmured, half joking, half serious. “But, yeah, we've had some trouble with them. We used to fight over territory, food, and... everything. Ask one of them, and they'd probably say the same thing." I sat down near the pavement and raised a hind leg to scratch at my ear. James watched, a vaguely amused look on his face. “What?"

“Nothing," he said quickly, shaking his head. “But, I mean, you can't keep thinking that sort of thing while here. It's gonna get you in trouble—again, like Samys. Imagine Jarys makes a gryphon friend and invites you to a party. Would you blow up like she did?"

I winced, hissing lightly as though struck. “I'd be better at hiding it, maybe? But…" I looked away, the confession bitter on my tongue. “Ah, maybe you're right; maybe I should try and put it past me. I've been so off recently, so I guess I've regressed, in a way."

James kicked at a loose pebble, sending it skittering across the pavement. “I get that, and I can sorta get why you'd think that," he said, his tone heavier than I'd heard before. "But you seem—and are—so good. It doesn't feel like you to hate an entire group like that." He scratched at the side of his jaw, and for a moment it seemed like he wasn't sure what to think. “You're too good."

I stared, a flicker of surprise warming my chest. “You really think so?"

He scratched his cheek again and looked away, seeming almost embarrassed by the sudden confession. “Yeah," he replied. “A new world, a new start... We can pretend nothing happened. Sound good?"

I nodded. “Sounds perfect." At last I closed the distance between us, allowing myself to walk by his side like I had earlier. “Thank you."

“Don't thank me." He shrugged, hands still in his coat pockets. “I'm not a gryphon; I'm just... looking out for you, I guess?" He exhaled, holding the duck-faced expression for a moment. “You know what else sounds perfect? Snacks."

The unexpected change made me tilt my head. “Snacks? What snacks?"

James hummed. “Do you really want to go to the park without snacks? What would we even do—hang out in the fresh air, with nature all around us, relaxing? Sounds boring…"

With the air lighter, I felt comfortable enough to brush past him, lightly smacking him with a wing. “Even with your favourite dragon?" I asked.

I spotted the smirk before it even formed—it was a twinkle in his eyes, a slight narrowing. “Rhys is coming?" He questioned, leaning back slightly as he walked, as though he were checking the area. “I didn't know."

“Ooh," I bumped him with my side, causing him to stumble. “Extremely low blow—despicably low blow." He bumped back, mirroring the contact, sending butterflies through my stomach. “And here I was going to buy you a drink."

He tilted his head from side to side, as if considering his options. At last he sighed, raised his head, and looked at the clouds above. “Fine…" He groused out. “Alys, you are my favourite dragon."

“Aw…" Deciding to push my luck, I brushed the side of my head against his, letting our ears rub together. “You're my favourite human too." He didn't rebuke me immediately, so I held it until he did, laughing as he nudged me away.

We continued walking, with James leading us towards a large, human-populated store. “Oh, and by the way," he started, picking up a basket as he did. “Her wings weren't as big as yours."

The smell of stale food and disinfectant greeted us. “You can't just say that, James!" I smacked him with my tail. “You'll get in trouble."

He swung the empty basket back and forth lazily. “I'm being friendly; you're the one burning crosses in their gardens." He picked up some kind of plastic device from a rack on the wall, which, when aimed in my direction, flashed me with a bright red light, temporarily blinding me.

I shook my head, blinking. “I don't understand your human references, but I'm assuming that's bad."

He added the device to the basket, which rattled when he resumed his idle swinging. “Pretty bad, yeah." After a pause, he raised the plastic container and hung it on the back of my primary horns. “Hold that for a second," he said, beginning to walk away. I hurried after him and bumped him with my head, knocking the basket onto the floor.

“Ooh, don't break store items, Alys," he said loudly. “You'll get in trouble."

“Carry the basket, human pet."

"Yes, mistress," he grumbled, picking it back up and hooking it on his fingers. He then unbuttoned his coat. “It's warm today. Why the hell are they putting the radiators on?" We soon approached the refrigerated section, wherein James threw a can of iced coffee and a bottle of fizzy black drink into the carrier.

“Poor humans," I said, picking a bottle of fruit juice with a paw. “You can't control your body temperatures, can you?" Since I was paying, I added a second bottle. “So poorly made," I tacked on, closing the fridge door for us.

“Our knees are also shitty; don't forget that," he said. “Also, you can control that? How?"

“No idea," I said honestly. “Magic, maybe. We can make our insides boiling hot; it makes us basically immune to diseases, and..." A flash of sour nostalgia struck me, and for a moment I considered not telling him a particularly interesting story before recalling who exactly I was talking to. “And it also resulted in a very gross story, if you're interested."

He levelled a disbelieving look my way; his eyes narrowed the tiniest of amounts. “Alys, come on, it's me; obviously I want to hear the very gross story," he said. “I'm assuming it involves temperatures?"

“Yes, yes, it does." I cleared my throat. “Okay, so I have an uncle on my mother's side who was a bit... loose. He cheated on his mate with another, younger ness, and somehow my auntie found out." Like it was a secret, I lent in close and whispered, “It was me; I told her. I saw him."

“Ooh," James cooed, leading me down to an aisle of plastic-wrapped sandwiches.

“Yep. I told her during a hunt for wyverns. Anyway, like a week later, when they were mid-mate, she made her, um, insides hot—really, really fucking hot. Scorching hot."

He looked to me, eyes widening.

“Burnt his dick off," I finally said, unable to hold back my manic smirk. “We're heatproof on the inside, but as it turned out, not completely heatproof everywhere else, and I, um, guess us females more so." I distracted myself momentarily with the logistics before giving up. "It ended up being a huge scandal for everyone involved. I got dragged in, and my aunt was going to get in serious trouble until the younger ness came forward and explained everything. All of our rations got cut down for two months, though."

"Wow," was my friend's philosophically succinct response. “Wow," he repeated. “Wait, he wasn't heatproof down there? I thought you were?" I'd already explained it, but he looked traumatised, and so I gave his tiny human brain the benefit of the doubt.

“I guess when it left him, it didn't count as internal anymore? To be fair, she hurt herself badly as well."

He pursed his lips, his mouth shut tight. “Wow. That's nuts. What a use of magic..." He laughed nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck. “The guy probably had it coming, but jeez... I think I'd jump out a window if that happened."

As I was behind him, I was able to place the bottom of my snout on his shoulder and give him a sideways look. “Don't cheat on me then," I said lowly, teeth bared.

"But the gryphon's paws..." He whined, his words strangely familiar.

I held up a paw, prodding him in the forehead with the limb. “Look, paws."

“Well, yeah, but gryphons are lions and birds, Alys. That's like twice the animals, and therefore would get me twice the judgement!" He beamed at me, flashing a wide, cheeky, and familiar smile.

I blinked, a rush of memories overtaking me.

Word for word, that's what Aiden said.

This conversation... he and Samys had it years ago.

“Alys, are you alright?" He asked, poking at the snout that was still sitting on his shoulder.

“Um, yeah, sorry. What were you saying?"

“Ah, you ruined my joke!" He pouted. “Hang on, go back to being all dopey; I've forgotten what I was going to say.

The similarities, thankfully, are only in expressions.

Otherwise, I'd…

...

… I don't know.

I pulled away, just as he snapped his fingers, seemingly remembering his joke. “I don't know, Alys. That gryphon had some very soft-looking feathers. I bet she'd be fantastic to lay on, you know, during a cold night."

I pulled back on the urge to nip him for the comparison. “Did you not just hear me tell you that we can control our internal body temperatures? I would make a fantastic bonfire." He tilted his head, as if looking at me for the first time.

“Scales," he announced, prodding me on the shoulder. “Pointy." He gestured to my twin pair of horns. “I'd get murdered during bedtime."

“You would not get murdered; you'd get injured—there's a difference," I corrected before jumping up to my back legs and standing with my forepaws on his shoulders. Fully raised up, I towered over him by a fair few feet. I set my snout on his head and placed my paws across his chest. “See? Nice, right?"

He chuckled, shaking his head a little, brushing his soft hair against my scales. “Yeah, I guess I can see the appeal. Can you let go, though? I feel like people are going to think you're planning on eating me."

I hummed, the sensation reverberating through him. “Fine, but I will need food to placate my ravenous appetite." He laughed and slipped from my grasp, allowing me to land with a soft pad against the store's tacky, linoleum flooring.

“You already sound like you've swallowed a thesaurus," he commented, reaching up to the higher shelves and grabbing a pair of chicken-filled sandwiches. “Maybe take it easy."

“No!" I chirped, getting back up and shaking him. “I want fish!"

James stumbled, but quickly grabbed the shelves.

“Sorry," I said quickly, pulling back and stepping away.

My heart was pounding, the sensation bounding through my ears. The heat that I thought I had control over had slipped past me, forcing me into performing a show of size and dominance. “I didn't mean to do that. I don't know what came over me."

He looked apprehensive, eyes wide and hair frazzled. He quirked his mouth and silently placed a tuna sandwich in the basket. “You, um, could have just said you wanted fish; you didn't need to try and fly off with me." Slowly, he brushed his hair back in place and fixed his coat.

“I, uh, wanted to give you a better view?"

“Is that a question, or are you telling me?"

Okay, he's letting you off. Ease back into it.

“Telling you," I clarified falsely. “I was going to grab you and fly off to my nest. Gonna feed you to my hatchlings. It would have been very gruesome."

“Wow, yeah, that would be gruesome, damn." There was a stiffness to his response that let me know for sure that the near fall had startled him. “What snacks do you want? They do crisps and whatever else. We could-" Suddenly he paused, the nerves fading in an instant. “Chocolate!"

“Chocolate?" I questioned, unsure of where he was going with the topic.

“Lactose-free chocolate!" He said loudly. “You can try chocolate. They did a, uh, vegan version. I remember seeing it a while ago, and I've just remembered." Without waiting for a reply, he hurried away, disappearing down the aisles. I galloped after him, finding him crouched below a selection of slightly pricier treats.

I sat down beside him and watched him skim.

“What kind do you want? White, plain, milk, or dark?" He asked.

“I don't know what those words mean."

“I would go with... not white, plains a bit bitter, same as dark, so... milk it is." He reached out and picked up a bar, which was then thoroughly inspected. “Yep, no lactose." The human spun on his heels and flashed me the treat, to which I only smiled weakly, enjoying his energy. “Ta-da! Feast your eyes on this bad boy!" I snatched it from him and held it up to the fluorescent lighting as though it were a treasure.

“Whoa, it's so amazingly amazing!" I cooed before turning back around and bonking him on the head with it. “Such a goober." He pouted before taking it back and adding it to the basket. “A very sweet goober," I clarified, standing back up and performing a quick stretch.

Only to audibly hiss in pain as a flare of agony surged from the base of my lower horns.

James got back up immediately. “What's up? You pull a muscle?"

“No," I groaned. “I've just… My horns are just growing again. Feels like a bad one; might be a wisdom barb, actually." I shook my head and raised a paw to massage the sore spot. It was made that much worse by it being right beside my ears, which in turn made them throb.

“Do you want a painkiller? I've got some pretty strong ones in my bag."

“Painkiller?" I said, massaging the sides of my head. “That's medicine, right?"

“Kind of. I've got, uh, co-dydramol. It's pretty strong. A lot stronger than paracetamol. Might make you a bit woozy, though." He looked around the aisle and, after finding it empty, took a strip of white tablets from his unzipped backpack. “Wait, actually, we'll do it outside."

The worry he was showing made my chest warm, and so I played it up a pinch.

“Yeah, we've got chocolate, sandwiches, and drinks. Let's go." He placed a hand upon my shoulder and speed-walked out of the aisle. As we left, however, I snagged a bag of crisps that I'd liked eating at the party.

When at the self-checkout, James took the plastic device out of the basket and used it to scan each item. He paid with his phone and placed the items, save for the chocolate, in his backpack.

After leaving the store, we stood off to the side, next to a collection of trolleys, for a minute. “How are you feeling?" He asked, unscrewing the cap of his fizzy drink. “Still hurting?"

I nodded. “They've been achy all morning," I said.

He bit his lip and slowly made his way beside me, where he lent in and looked behind my head, at the base of my lower horns. “Can I-"

“Yes, you can touch my ears."

He grasped the edge of the long extremities and bent them to the side carefully. “James, they're very floppy; you won't hurt me," I said softly. I felt him nod and then bend further, leaning in closer, trying to see.

The pain was at the very base, as horns themselves couldn't ache. Otherwise, all of the times I'd broken mine flying would have sent me into shock.

“Um… It's kind of hard to see," he said, “but I think they look a bit swollen. Do you want the painkiller? Do you know what you're allergic to?"

I recalled my visits to the human healers. “Lactose and penicillin," I recited. “The doctors were surprised that it wasn't more. We have pretty similar internals, apparently, but your immune systems are better."

He let go of my ear and took the strip of medicine back out of his bag before pausing and sniff-laughing. At my questioning look, he said, “Nothing, nothing. It's just that this situation is kind of funny. A human feeding dragon opioids in a car park. Here's your drink." He popped out two and passed me my fruit juice.

I swallowed both and exhaled, waiting.

“Now what?" I questioned after a beat.

“It takes a bit to kick in. They're strong, but not morphine strong. You might not even feel them all that much."

It could've been the onset of heat, the drugs working faster than expected, or maybe just the way things felt in that moment, but I found myself saying, “I like being with you, James."

James glanced back, puzzled. "Hm?"

“I like being with you."

“Oh." He blinked. “I like being with you too," he said, scratching his cheek again.

It was strange, but, out of everything we'd talked about, including mating, heat, and me pinning him down, it was that innocuous comment that got the biggest reaction out of him. He kept his hands in his pockets, face forward, but the dusting of heat in his cheeks let me know how he felt.

“You softy," I whispered, bumping him again once close enough for contact.

“I will bin your chocolate," he grumbled, holding up the bar. “Don't tempt me." I ignored him, and using my teeth, I snatched it from his hold. “Aw…" Quickly, however, he stole it back. “Wait for the park, greedy iguana."

The park, as it turned out, was further away than he had initially thought, and twice as we walked, he begged for us to take a bus, but I hated using them and would instead walk behind him and push him forward.

We reached it within an hour. A limp, sad James stood beside me, hands in his pockets.

It was larger than I'd expected, more like a woods than a patch of grass.

The park sprawled out before us, a mix of open fields, shaded corners, and a small play area for hatchlings. Trees swayed gently in the warm breeze, clearly pleased with their placement. I fluttered my wings, letting them stretch for a moment as I glanced over at my friend. His eyes swept across the park, likely scanning for a good spot to set up.

With a nudge, I bumped with the side of my head, ears brushing against his own. “Come on, human pet," I teased, curling my tail in the air. “Before all of the other dragons take the best patches of grass."

“Ugh," he grumbled, placing his hands against his back and surprising me with a loud crack. “Please, I have a gift for finding prime picnic spots. I'm practically a master."

I snorted. “Of course you do, pet. Go on then." I flared a wing and pushed him forward with it. “Go find us a spot." He grabbed the fingers of the wing and pulled—not very hard, mind you, just enough for me to feel it. Not that he could have hurt me; my wings were likely tougher than my actual legs.

“You're helping," he pulled again.

Together we wandered down one of the winding paths, lightly shoving one another and eating our food early until we found, at last, a nice spot under an old, broad oak tree. It was perfect, I thought, with a smile—partially shaded yet with enough space for a dragon to stretch out comfortably. As I settled down, nestling against the tree, I felt warmth spread through me. Not heat, but a soft, comfortable sensation.

“Oh, crap," I heard him say. He was standing, staring at the ground, as though the grass had offended him. “No blanket. Where do I put the food?" He looked over at me and was given a snicker.

“Use your coat," I suggested, half joking.

He walked over to me and placed the plastic-wrapped sandwiches atop the spread membranes of my wings. “Hold these," he said, tapping the limb. He then reached into his backpack and tore apart a white plastic bag he'd stashed before spreading it out on the grass. “Holy shit, that's so brokie," he laughed to himself as he placed a chocolate bar and then a pack of crisps atop it. The snacks were soon joined by the sandwiches. "At least they won't melt in my bag."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his ingenuity—or maybe it was just desperation—but either way, it was endearing, lovable almost. “Fantastic work," I said as I rubbed the scales of my spine against the hard bark of the tree. “Couldn't we afford an actual blanket?"

James threw his hands up. “Hey, at least I didn't just dump the food on the ground," he said, settling down beside me. “Plus, now I don't have to worry about grass stains on my coat. I'm a genius." I curled the tip of the tail against the family-sized bag of crisps and used the limb to flip the snacks in my direction.

“A genius of improvisation," I corrected, opening the bag and popping a pawful of crisp into my mouth. They were salty and satisfying, and I found myself devouring them. “We really are living the high life out here, huh?"

“Yup." He at last removed his coat, placing it against the tree as a makeshift pillow. “Good food, good company, and top-tier luxury." He took his backpack off for further comfort. “Like millionaires." He closed his eyes and lent further back.

I glanced over at him, watching his chest rise and fall with steady breaths.

He looked more relaxed than I had ever seen him, the warm sunlight catching the raised strands of his hair. It surprised me how effortlessly happy he seemed, sending a flutter of warmth into my chest. I fought the urge to reach and touch him to see if he…

I sucked in air and pulled back, silently reprimanding myself for nearly giving in to needless, basic instincts. I had to remind myself not to ruin such a moment, not to push too hard for the sake of urges that would likely fade within a month.

With a forced calmness, I laid back.

It all felt so peaceful. Being out in the open, the sun warming my scales, the faint rustle of leaves, and James just... being there. I wanted more, selfishly wishing that every day could be so perfect. It was greater than any day back home besides the hatching of my siblings.

As the warmth of the sun wrapped around us and time passed, I found myself shifting slightly, inching closer to him under the shade of the tree. I let my shoulder brush against his, hoping he wouldn't notice.

It's fine; it doesn't count.

Humans lay beside each other all the time.

I closed my eyes for a moment, savouring the soft rustle of leaves overhead and the steady rhythm of his breathing. The peacefulness hung in the air, and I felt a flutter of anticipation, wondering if he could sense my presence beside him.

“Alright," he suddenly said, startling me and sending a rush of nerves through me. “Are you going to try that chocolate, or are you going to stare off into space all day? I've been waiting for your reaction for like twenty minutes."

I snorted and picked up the bar, fumbling with the wrapper for a moment before at last getting it open. “You sure I'm not going to hate this?" I asked, holding up a piece of the dark brown confectionary.

“Only one way to find out." He watched intently, as though expecting me to have some sort of dramatic reaction.

I chomped down, severing a large piece off before quickly swallowing, not tasting much besides a quick bout of sweetness. I looked to James, unable to hide my disappointment. “It's a bit-"

“Alys, you're supposed to chew it," he said quickly, sounding startled. “Not gulp it down like a dying fish."

“Like a dying fish!?" I gasped. “After I eat this, I'm going to pounce on you."

“Wait, what?" He shuffled back. “No, don't. You'll squish me!"

“Squish!?" I broke another piece of and chewed intently, keeping heavy eye contact with him as he anxiously backed away. “Oh, no. I'm not taking that from such a soft, weak-looking creature. I am going to pin you down and set your hair on fire. It's a loss I can live with."

“Shit, fuck, no, wait!" He tried to escape, but I was done enjoying the treat—it was nice, very nice in fact, but I was ticked off, and his terrified scuttling was triggering predatory instincts. “I'm like, weak and sad; I don't think I'd survive a wild dragon attack."

The heat under my scales flared, fuelling an urge I couldn't suppress. “Then you'd better try harder." I launched forward, wings flared wide as I pounced, knocking him back down. He hit the ground with a thud, and I pinned him easily beneath me, a grin spreading across my face. “Wow, you're right," I teased, leaning in closer. “You really wouldn't last long."

“You cheated!" He pouted, squirming beneath me. “I wasn't ready."

A dark thrill ran through me as I pressed down harder. “A dragon doesn't wait for her prey to get ready," I purred. “You should know that by now." I leaned in until my breath stirred his hair. "Now... hold still, or you're going to regret it."

The air was cool that day, the light breeze attempting and failing to lessen the heat beneath my scales. My ears twitched back as a shout was heard in the distance, but I was too lost in the moment to notice or care.

James twisted madly, managing to push against my shoulder, rolling us sideways. I allowed him to have the upper paw for just a moment, only to shove him back down, pinning him more firmly, his face in the grass. “You are terrible at this," I commented, snout against his ear, holding back the urge to nip at his neck and/or ears.

His muffled voice rose up from the ground. “Well, excuse me, but I don't practice wrestling dragons in my free time."

I huffed a laugh. “Maybe you should start," I suggested, loosening my grip enough for him to turn his head, along with allowing him a fighting chance. Males could be such sore losers.

He twisted, managing to shove against my shoulder and roll us sideways. For a moment, he was on top, his hands braced on my shoulders, his mouth wide with a satisfied grin. But I was far more experienced. My tail lashed around his waist and yanked him back, throwing him off balance.

He yelped as I drove him back into the grass, claws locking around his wrists as I held him down. My wings flared wide, casting a shadow over him, his breath coming in rapid, shallow bursts. His pulse quick and frantic beneath my grip.

“Pinned," I said, my voice a low growl. “And this time, it's final."

The human laughed shakily, his chest rising and falling beneath me. “Fine, fine, you win... Just don't set me on fire." He looked down at his shirt and the green staining it. "Ugh, this shirt is so wrecked..."

The playful tone faded, replaced by a tense stillness. The world around us seemed to fall away, leaving only his warmth, the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my claws, and the ragged sound of our breathing.

"You're, um... really strong," he murmured, his soft voice breaking the silence. “And kind of terrifying."

“Oh, yeah?" I whispered, bringing my snout closer until our noses almost touched. His breath came out in uneven gasps, the tension thickening with every second.

“Yeah," he stammered, trying to move but finding no escape. His eyes flicked to mine, wide and searching.

How easily I could have...

What am I doing?

“Alys?" His voice trembled with uncertainty. “Alys, are you okay?"

His breath came in quick, erratic gasps, as if the realisation of the situation was hitting him in waves. My pulse pounded in my ears, the air between us crackling with something I couldn't ignore.

His lips… looked... so... soft.

“Alys?"

I need to pull back.

I need to let him go.

But instead, I tightened my grip on his hands and pulled him closer, the scales of my snout brushing against his nose. I could feel his breath on my lips, tinged with cinnamon, hot and inviting. The world narrowed to that single point of contact—the rise and fall of his chest, his unsteady breaths, and the wild, reckless need that surged through me.

Don't.

Please don't.

“A-Alys…?"

My own mind screamed at me to stop, but a desperate, heat-tainted part of me took over, ignoring the warning. I closed the distance, pressing my mouth gently to his. His lips were still at first, frozen as though unsure what to do.

I pulled back, hesitating for a heartbeat, my breath mingling with his as I searched his eyes for some sign that he wanted this too. There was only a flicker of uncertainty there, but it wasn't enough to make me stop. The need burning inside me roared louder, demanding more. I leaned in again, pressing my mouth back to his, one claw gripping his soft hair, and another, his shirt.

Then, slowly, tentatively, he began to move along with me. It was hesitant, nervous—a kiss that barely counted as a kiss, as though he was letting himself test the waters before committing to the plunge.

That faint pressure, however, was all it took to set something ablaze inside me. I latched onto it, deepening the kiss with a fevered urgency, my claws digging in as my body lowered over his. My wings curled around us, encircling him like a cage.

His lips felt soft, fragile under mine, and I tried to coax them open, my longer tongue slipping out to trace the closed seam of his mouth, urging him to respond. I tilted my head, angling the kiss to better fit the flatter shape of his face, pressing harder, more insistently. I felt him quiver beneath me, a shudder that traveled from his chest to his throat, where it vibrated against my lips.

His hands slid up to my shoulders, gripping tighter, as if holding on for balance. The gentleness from before slipped away, lost in the desperate need to keep that small, trembling kiss alive. His mouth moved against mine, soft and careful, but it wasn't enough. I needed more.

I shifted my weight, pressing my body fully against his, letting my scales slide over the warmth of his skin and the smoothness of his shirt. The sensation was electric, a rush of heat that seared through me, and I arched my back slightly, letting my chest press into his. I tried to draw him in, pulling him closer with every motion, my tail curling tightly around his legs. My wings wrapped closer, as if I could force the world to shrink to just the two of us, sealed inside this moment.

My tongue pushed its way inside at last, first feeling the softness of his lips and then tasting the warmth of his mouth. I traced the roof of his mouth, felt the texture of his teeth, each touch a desperate plea for him to return the kiss with the same urgency. He tensed as my tongue invaded, his breath hitching sharply, and for a moment his lips tightened against the intrusion. The hands on my shoulders pressed more firmly, as though trying to create a bit of space.

It wasn't a forceful shove—just a soft, nervous effort to pull back, to remind me that this was too much.

I ignored it, too lost in myself and the scorching heat.

With an unbecoming moan, I leaned in deeper, clinging to the kiss, my tongue pushing further as if I could will him to respond through sheer force of need. I felt his body tense beneath mine, the shudder of his breath as it caught in his throat. His taste was unfamiliar, tinged with fear, and that fear only stoked the wildness inside me.

Please kiss back.

Please.

But his lips had stopped moving, leaving only the hesitant pressure of his hands against my shoulders, trying weakly to push me back. The realization sank in like ice water—he wasn't reciprocating anymore.

He was just enduring it.

What am I doing?

Why am I pushing him like this?

The questions hit me like a slap, and with jarring clarity, I tore myself away, breaking the contact with a sharp gasp. The cool air stung my lips, a harsh contrast to the fevered heat that had consumed me. I stumbled back, my breaths ragged and uneven, as though I'd just come up from drowning.

I stared at him, searching for something in his expression—anything to make sense of what I'd done. His eyes were wide, shock and confusion swirling in them, his breaths coming quick and shallow. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of hurt.

“Oh, no… James, I—" The words died in my throat, choked by guilt and regret. What could I even say? An apology felt hollow, and the truth... I wasn't even sure I knew what that was anymore.

What have I done?

Oh gods.

Please.

Please say something.

But he didn't.