"Pinned." Alys' voice came low, almost a growl. "And this time, it's final."

I forced a shaky laugh, trying to keep things light despite the weight of her claws against my wrists. My heart hammered under her grip. "Fine, fine, you win… Just don't set me on fire." I glanced down at my shirt, smeared with a thick green stain. "Ugh, this shirt is so wrecked..."

Her silence settled over us, wiping away any humour. The world seemed to collapse inward, tunnelling down to the weight of her body pinning mine, the heat radiating from her, and our breaths mingling in the stillness.

"You're, um... really strong," I managed, feeling my own voice falter as I searched her eyes. "And kind of terrifying."

"Oh, yeah?" She whispered, her snout coming closer until the space between us was no more than an inch, her nose just above mine. The air felt thick, charged, as I felt her breath flow just above mine.

"Yeah," I stammered, barely able to hold her gaze, my heart pounding frantically. I tried to move, but I was caught—pinned by her heavy grip, by her gaze.

"Alys?" I said, my voice trembling with uncertainty.

Her eyes flicked down, as if to my mouth, and a sudden, overwhelming realisation crashed over me.

"Alys, are you... okay?" I tried.

I barely recognized my own breaths, coming shallow and uneven, like I was struggling for air. She didn't answer, but her gaze grew even more intense, something restless and raw simmering behind her eyes.

Then her gaze flicked down again—to my lips.

"Alys?"

For a moment, I thought she'd pull back, break the stare, and laugh it all off. But instead, her grip tightened on my wrists, and she leaned in even closer, the smooth scales of her nose brushing against the tip of mine, her warmth bleeding into me. Her breath carried a faint chocolate sweetness, edged with a unique spice.

"A-Alys...?"

I couldn't finish. She closed the last inch of space between us, her mouth pressing against mine, rougher than I expected, the texture strange and unfamiliar against my lips. I froze, caught completely off guard, unsure of what to do or what was even happening.

She pulled back, hesitating, her breath mingling with mine in the heavy silence as her eyes searched my face. I didn't know what to say or do, but the look in her eyes left no room for questions. She leaned in again, capturing my mouth once more, her clawed hands winding into my hair and clutching at my shirt as though afraid to let go.

I didn't push her away. Instead, I felt myself responding on sheer instinct, a slow, tentative kiss, even though uncertainty still pulsed through me. Her lips were unlike anything I'd ever felt - flat, rough against mine, strange and almost electrifying.

As I moved weakly against her, she deepened the kiss, her urgency mounting as she pressed harder against me, her long, forked tongue tracing the closed seam of my lips. Her claws dug in and I felt a wave of heat shiver through me as her wings wrapped around, enclosing us. It felt... overwhelming, like I was completely surrounded, both exhilarated and held captive.

Alys shifted, her weight pressing harder against me, sealing me in place beneath her. With a tilt of her curved snout, she found a better angle, able to press her lips against mine more deeply. I shuddered, a flush of warmth blooming from the subtle movements of her body as she adjusted her position. My arms reached up, holding onto her strong, sleek forelimbs, torn between holding on and pushing her away.

Taking this as a sign, her mouth opened against mine, deepening the already intense embrace. I tried to meet her pace, my mind struggling to catch up, but her intensity was relentless. I could feel her whole body pressing into mine, her scales sliding over my skin, her breathing heavy and rapid.

When her hips purposefully ground against mine, I gasped, the reflexive gesture allowing her tongue to at last slip between my lips, to taste my mouth and trace every inch with a feverish, insistent urgency that left me feeling physically dizzy. A shiver ran through me as her muscular tail coiled tightly around both ankles, her need so strong it left me breathless.

For a second, I managed to increase the push on her shoulders, trying to ease her back. My fingers pressed into her muscles, hoping she'd understand, but she only seemed to press closer, as if she hadn't noticed.

"Alys," I tried to say against her lips, but it was swallowed by the heat of her kiss as she leaned in deeper, her flat lips moving against mine almost desperately.

My breaths came short, nearly panicked, as she overwhelmed me, filling my senses with nothing but her warmth, her weight, and the smell I was beginning to notice. The tang was sharp and almost acrid, like something fierce and burning at the edge of my senses. And then I felt her paws pressing even tighter on me, the hold on my hair near-harsh, her body shuddering with some barely contained need.

With an audible moan, she pressed deeper, her tongue pushing so deep I nearly gagged. I went still, feeling her desperation turn to something more consuming, something that made my pulse race with fear. It was too much, far, far too much. My hold on her, my light budging, became a push, but her strength and weight were beyond me.

Her maw continued its feverish assault, and I could feel her breathing grow rougher, her movements almost feral. Her talons dug into my skin painfully, her need relentless as she pushed forward, deeper, her lips demanding more even as I pulled back. A chilling realization hit me—she wasn't letting up, but was instead pushing forward.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, she pulled away, her eyes wide and her breaths ragged as she stumbled back from me. The cool air hit my face, and I barely managed to catch my breath as I took in her expression—searching, lost, desperate, guilty.

"Oh, no... James, I—" she stammered, her voice catching, but whatever she was about to say broke off, as though she couldn't find the words. An apology? An explanation? Neither would make this any clearer.

What… what just happened?

Say something.

But I couldn't. The silence stretched on, and on, and on…

Until.

“Sorry."

…Hm?

What…?

I barely even registered her departure. One second she was there, holding my gaze with an unreadable look—regret, confusion? And then she was gone, a burst of wind and a beat of her wings carrying her away into the sky. I just sat there, glued to the spot, staring blankly at where she'd disappeared over the treetops.

My mind felt blank, as though the shock of it all had wiped me clean.

Gradually, however, the silence around me faded, the haze lifting. I blinked, the world falling back into place: the rustling leaves, the hum of distant traffic, and the smell of crunched grass beneath me. It all felt so surreal, like I'd somehow wandered into someone else's life, yet there was no one there to wake me up.

I looked down at my hands, numb, as though waiting for them to reveal something, anything. My palms felt clammy, fingers shaking ever so slightly as I lifted myself to my feet and stumbled over to my backpack and our discarded food.

What just happened?

My mind couldn't hold on to the memory; it kept slipping away from it, like it was too big or too strange to process all at once.

My eyes drifted down to the scattered remnants of our faux picnic. Right, yeah. Packing. I focused all of my energy on the act, feeling the familiar motions carry me along like a river's current. I gathered up the untouched sandwiches, the half-eaten packet of crisps, and our drinks. Each movement was slow, automatic, mechanical. 

And yet... no matter how much I tried to hold on to that haze, small flashes kept bleeding through it—her eyes, glassy yet intense and scorching, the solid weight of her atop me, the roughness of her lips. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying desperately to will the images away, but they stuck stubbornly to the edges of my frazzled mind, glowing like embers determined to live.

As I continued, my hands began to tremble more noticeably. I paused, staring down at them, unsure whether it was the fading adrenaline or something else entirely. Alys... Alys was my friend. My dragon friend. She was someone I could laugh with, share a meal at work with, maybe even count on in a tight spot. But this? Whatever this was? The edges were blurry, strange, impossible to define.

Why...?

Why had I... Why had I leaned into it?

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the thoughts, but they seeped in anyway, unbidden and unwanted. She'd leaned down, pressed her lips to mine, and in that single, shocking moment, I hadn't pulled back. No, worse—I'd felt something, something new and uncomfortable, but… electric. A brief spark, buried under layers of shock, but it was there. And it made my skin crawl.

The chocolate bar was the last thing on the blanket, half-wrapped in its foil. I picked it up, my fingers brushing the bite marks she'd left. I tucked it into the bag with the other items, as though maybe I could pack away the whole experience, stuff it deep in the backpack where I wouldn't have to look at it again.

But the memory of her lips, her rough, solid weight pressing against me, stayed etched in my mind, refusing to fade.

I stood there, staring blankly at the cleared patch of grass where our picnic had been.

It felt like hours had passed since I'd packed everything away, and yet my feet wouldn't move. I kept thinking, She kissed me. And I...

I stopped myself. No. I couldn't dwell on it. This wasn't something I could allow myself to pick apart, to analyse and sort into neat little categories.

I forced myself to take a deep breath and turn away, finally lifting the backpack onto my shoulder and heading toward the trail. With each step, I hoped the shock would fade, that maybe, if I kept walking long enough, the numbness would settle into something manageable. But as I walked, it felt like my chest was being squeezed, a dull ache spreading through me that I couldn't shake.

By the time I reached the edge of the park, my legs felt heavy, every step a quiet reminder of what had happened. I kept my head down, avoiding eye contact with the occasional passerby, barely registering their faces. It was as if I was moving through a fog, disconnected from everything around me. My body was going through the motions of normalcy, but my mind was trapped in that single moment, replaying it over and over like a broken record.

My mind was so twisted up in shame and confusion that I barely noticed where I was going. The path had led me off the park's beaten track, and I'd wandered further out, onto the busy road just beyond the tree line. I didn't even see the curb in front of me until it was too late.

My foot hit the edge of the sidewalk, and I stumbled, loosing my footing and putting myself right in the path of an oncoming car.

Headlights blazed in my vision, a pair of searing beams that swallowed everything else. My body froze, my legs locked as panic surged, every thought scattering like startled birds. The car's horn blared, sharp and piercing, and I saw the flash of the driver's face, wide-eyed and horrified.

The screech of brakes filled the air, tires squealing against the asphalt as the car hurtled closer, unstoppable.

I was about to die.

In that split second, however, something jerked me back, hard, yanking me out of harm's way. I stumbled backward, a rough hand gripping my shoulder, and the rush of air from the car whipped past me as I landed roughly on the curb. The driver shot me a wild, bewildered look as they sped off, leaving me alone, breathless and shaken, my heart pounding in my ears.

I turned to look for whoever had pulled me back, my eyes scanning the sidewalk for any sign of them. There had been something—a flash of purple and white, a glimmer just at the edge of my vision before I'd fallen back. But now, the sidewalk was empty, just a bare stretch of concrete bathed in the dim glow of streetlights. There was no one there.

Had someone… helped me? Or had I simply stumbled back?

The memory of that grip lingered, the solid, unmistakable pressure of fingers digging into my shoulder. I'd felt it, and I'd heard someone, too, a low, sharp voice muttering a single word, the sound almost lost in the rush of my own heartbeat.

“Idiot."

…..

I didn't show up to work the following Monday, and then when I did the day after, I barely spoke to anyone, certainly not Alys. I wasn't mad at her, per se, although maybe I should have been, but I just didn't have the energy for it. I was just so... lost.

She'd forced an idea upon me that hadn't even been a flicker of thought—dating a dragon - dating something that wasn't just another gender but rather another species entirely.

I had tried to bury the thought beneath my routine, beneath the fast food trays, the orders to fill and the stilted conversations with co-workers. But no matter how hard I tried to focus, my mind would always wander back to that kiss. Alys had been so... desperate, and yet so unsure, as if she didn't want to hurt me but couldn't stop herself.

And now she was here again, behind the grill, her wings pressed tightly against her sides as she flipped the burgers with methodical precision. She hadn't made any noise when she entered the kitchen. But I noticed her right away. It was like my body had learned to sense her, to recognize that presence even before I could see her.

She worked in silence, her movements sharp and deliberate, but there was something off about the way she carried herself today. The usual fluidity was gone, replaced by a tense, almost robotic rhythm. Every motion felt more deliberate, as if she was forcing herself to keep going, to keep moving, even when her mind was clearly elsewhere.

I could see it in the way she held herself, the tightness in her posture, the way her claws clenched against the spatula with just a little more force than necessary. A faint tremor ran through her shoulders, but she kept her head down, not meeting anyone's eyes—not mine. It felt like she was trying to disappear, to become invisible.

I focused on the fryer, trying to distract myself, but it was hard not to glance over at her. There was a heaviness to her, a weight that she couldn't shake off. Guilt? Regret? Whatever it was, it wasn't like Alys at all. She was always the one with the sharp grin, the one who would flirt or joke around with me while working. But now, she was just... here. Present, but not really.

I dropped a few more baskets into the hot oil, the sizzle filling the air, but even that sound couldn't drown out the quiet tension between us. Alys flipped the burgers, her movements jerky, the quiet scrape of the spatula against the grill louder than usual. Her eyes never met mine.

Why couldn't I just brush it off? It was just a kiss—a stupid, impulsive kiss. But every time I tried to forget, it came rushing back, like a ghost haunting me.

When I stole another glance at her, I caught the visible tremor in her talons as she turned a patty over. Her wings, usually relaxed and flowing, were held tight to her sides, as if they, too, were trying to shrink away.

I didn't know what to do. What could I do? We had crossed a line that neither of us could erase, and neither of us seemed brave enough to face it. I couldn't just ask her if she was okay. The question felt hollow. She wasn't okay, and I wasn't okay, and neither of us knew how to fix it.

The fryer beeped, signalling that the chicken was done, and I focused on pulling it out, keeping my hands steady, trying to ignore the way her presence still filled the room, even if she was avoiding me. Her movements were getting slower, her focus slipping further away. She didn't make any of her usual comments, didn't shoot me any playful looks. No, that day, she just... worked. Like she was going through the motions, but none of it meant anything.

Finally, the orders started coming in quicker. I couldn't keep staring at her, but I couldn't help it. Every time I glanced over, she was there—her eyes not quite focused, her head low, her breath even but shallow, as if she were trying not to break. I caught her rubbing the back of her neck again, her claws dragging slowly along her scales, and I could almost see the weight of whatever it was she was carrying.

I wanted to say something. Anything. But my mouth wouldn't cooperate. What could I say to make this better? How could I make her feel better when I didn't even know how to fix myself?

And when I caught her eyes for just a second, she quickly looked away, as though she couldn't bear to let me see the hurt in them. I didn't say anything. I couldn't. Instead, I just kept working, focusing on the fryer and the orders coming in, trying to ignore the gnawing emptiness inside me.

The kitchen was quiet, except for the sizzle of the grill and fryer. It was like the whole world had shrunk to just the sounds of cooking—my mind a million miles away from anything else, but somehow always tethered to her, to the way she stood there, so distant, so lost in her own thoughts.

Finally, the shift ended, and I could feel the air shift, like a weight lifting, even if only for a moment. Alys didn't look at me as she gathered her things, moving as if she were afraid to make a single sound. I wanted to say something, but nothing felt right.

There was nothing I could say to fix it.

The days became a blur, a mess of splintered thoughts and half-baked attempts to talk—each of which ended with me looking away every time she finally met my gaze. I could see it in her eyes: she wanted to talk. Or maybe she wanted me to talk. Either way, neither of us could seem to find the words.

Every moment with her felt heavy, weighed down by the unspoken tension between us. I'd catch her looking at me sometimes, only for her to glance away, her wings shifting uneasily like they wanted to shield her from whatever was going through my mind. And every time I thought I might say something, my courage faltered.

What was there to say? Sorry for being distant? Sorry for feeling... what? Confused? Scared? Intrigued?

I didn't know what to say, nor even what to think. I couldn't even understand my own feelings, let alone hers.

But the more I avoided her, the worse it felt. Like the silence was building a wall between us that neither of us could tear down. Every time I saw her, it felt like she was slipping further and further away, and I couldn't shake the thought that if I didn't do something soon, she'd be gone entirely—physically and/or emotionally.

By Friday, the weight of it all was too much to bear. I couldn't keep floating through this fog, dodging glances and swallowing words that needed to be said. I didn't know what I felt or what I wanted, but I knew I couldn't keep running from it.

And so, that Friday, I resolved myself to fixing the puzzle that was my thoughts.

…..

The blinking cursor on my screen pulsed like a heartbeat, a silent dare. My hands hovered above the keyboard, motionless, as if typing would somehow solidify the mess in my head.

The living room was silent, but my thoughts were louder than any noise could ever be, drowning out everything else. I tried to focus, to shove it all aside, but her face intruded every time. Her scales catching the sunlight in streaks of blue. Her bright, piercing eyes. And her lips—no. Stop. Stop thinking about it.

My hand flew to my hair, tugging at the roots until it stung. Eight days. It had been eight days since that kiss. Since Alys leaned in—scales glinting, wings half-folded—and pressed her lips against mine. Eight days since my brain turned to static, leaving me sat there, stunned and overwhelmed by feelings I couldn't even name. Feelings I didn't want to name. Feelings I shouldn't have.

But it wasn't just the kiss that haunted me—it was what came after. The way I'd leaned in, almost instinctively, only to yank myself back as if I'd touched a live wire when it became too much. The way she'd looked at me then: part regret, part fear, part something I couldn't understand. And then, she'd left. No explanation. No words. Just gone.

And today—God, today—seeing her at work had been enough to derail me completely. Across the room, her presence was a gravitational pull, impossible to ignore. My heart raced, palms damp, mind screaming, What the hell is wrong with you?

Was there something wrong with me? That was the question that refused to leave me.

Alys wasn't just different—she was a dragon. A literal dragon. Wings, scales, a tail—all of it. And yet, none of that had crossed my mind in the moment. All I'd thought about was her. Her laugh, her voice, the way she made the world seem just a little less heavy.

But liking her? Kissing her? That crossed a line I hadn't even realized existed until I tripped over it. I groaned, slumping forward until my forehead thunked against the desk. My chair groaned in protest, and for a moment, I wished it would just collapse and swallow me whole. I couldn't keep spiralling like this.

What I needed—if I even knew what I needed—was advice. Someone to tell me I wasn't completely broken for feeling this way. Or, alternatively, someone to shake me and shout, Yes, you are! Snap out of it!

I thought of my friends first—guys I'd known since high school yet hadn't spoken to in a while. The group chat had died some months back, and aside from the occasional meet-up, no one really talked to each other anymore—at least, not to me. There was still the chance they'd respond, but it would likely be nothing but jokes about scaly girlfriends, and... nah.

With a sigh, I set my phone aside, ignoring the new notifications lighting up the screen. My "friends" weren't the answer, not this time. My thoughts shifted to my sister next. She'd listen. She'd understand. She always did, and she'd been in a good mood ever since we'd sat together with dad, as awkward as it had been.

But even the idea of dumping this on her made my stomach twist. She had her own problems; she didn't need me barging in with... whatever this was. 

And what would I even say? Hey, so a dragon kissed me, and I think I liked it. Is that bad? Just imagining her face made me wince. No. I'd figure it out myself. I always did.

That left... the internet. A place where anonymity was both a shield and a curse. Reddit popped into my head first, but I dismissed it almost as quickly. I didn't want to get buried under sarcastic comments or drowned in the usual platitudes. Just be yourself, bro. Or, dragons are hot. What's the issue??

No thanks.

I needed something quieter. Safer. Somewhere I could explain without being seen. And then, almost as if summoned, I thought of that AI thing everyone used for essays and cheating at school. It wasn't a person, and maybe that was the point. It wouldn't laugh. It wouldn't judge. It would just... respond.

After googling what the site was even called and pulling it up, I stared at the blinking cursor in the chat box, my fingers hovering over my mechanical keyboard. It felt ridiculously pathetic asking an AI for advice about something like this. But what choice did I have? Taking a deep breath, I started typing.

“Hi. So this is kind of embarrassing, but I need advice about something weird. Is that okay?" The words stared back at me, stiff and awkward, like they belonged to someone else.

“Of course! Feel free to share whatever's on your mind," the AI replied almost instantly, its eternally polite tone managing to both reassure and unnerve me.

I hesitated, my fingers trembling slightly above the keys. How was I supposed to explain this? How could I put into words something I barely understood myself? Taking a deep breath, I started typing.

“Well," I wrote, “a friend of mine; Alys—a dragon—kissed me the other day. And I liked it. I think. But now I can't stop thinking about it, and I don't know if that's normal or if there's something wrong with me."

The words hit the screen with a finality that made my stomach churn. I hit enter before I could second-guess myself, leaning back as if distance would dull the sting of admitting it. My heart pounded in the silence that followed. And then the AI's response appeared.

“It's completely normal to feel confused or conflicted about your emotions, especially when they involve something unexpected. Attraction can be complicated—it's not always tied to the physical form but can instead be about connection, personality, and the way someone makes you feel. There's nothing inherently wrong with you for feeling this way. It's okay to take time to process and understand your feelings."

I stared at the response, letting the words sink in. It made sense. Too much sense. Of course attraction wasn't always physical. I knew that, as did everyone else. But knowing it didn't help. If anything, it made me feel worse. Because if it wasn't just about form, then what was it about? Did that mean I was just hopelessly open to anyone—or anything—that clicked with me emotionally?

Or maybe it was about form. That was the darker thought, lurking in the corners of my mind. Because yes, Alys was kind and funny, everything I admired in a person. But it wasn't just that. I couldn't deny the physical pull—the way her scales caught the light, the musical lilt in her voice, the almost imperceptible flick of her floppy ears when she was excited. Things that shouldn't have mattered, but did.

And that terrified me.

“Okay," I typed back, my hands moving almost on their own. “But what if it's not just about the emotional connection? What if it's physical too? I mean, it's not like I'm attracted to dragons, right? It's just her. But doesn't that mean there's something... wrong with me? That I could look at her and like things about her that aren't human?"

The pause before the AI's reply felt interminable, though I knew it was only seconds.

“Being attracted to someone for who they are as a whole—both emotionally and physically—is not wrong," it wrote. “It's natural for attraction to encompass multiple facets of a person, including their physical traits. If you're finding yourself drawn specifically to Alys and not to dragons as a species, it might simply mean your feelings are unique to her. There's no 'correct' way to feel attraction—it's deeply personal."

A dry, bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. No correct way to feel attraction? It was easy for a machine to say when it didn't have to live with the fallout. I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. My chest felt tight, like the walls were closing in.

It wasn't like I was suddenly going to develop a thing for dragons, I reasoned. The thought alone made my stomach twist. I wasn't attracted to dragons. I didn't look at other dragons and feel this flutter. It was just her.

Just Alys.

But if it was just her, then why couldn't I stop fixating on the parts of her that weren't human? The strength of her legs, the curve of her wings, the softness of her ears beneath my fingers.

And if I liked those things about her, didn't that mean... what? That I wasn't just attracted to her as a person but to her as a dragon? What did that even mean? What did that make me?

I dropped my head into my hands, pressing my palms against my temples as if I could squeeze the spiral out of my brain. The AI's words floated in my mind, calm and measured, but they felt so far removed from the storm inside me. They were right, logically, but they weren't enough to drown out the insidious voice in the back of my mind.

This isn't normal. This isn't okay. You shouldn't feel this way.

The whisper became a roar, one thought bleeding into another until I couldn't keep them straight. It's just Alys. I'm not into dragons, just her. It was becoming a mantra, one with diminishing returns. But if I like parts of her that are dragon, doesn't that mean... No, it doesn't. But what if it does? What if I'm... broken?

The word hit like a slap, stealing the breath from my lungs. Broken. That was the crux of it, wasn't it? The nagging fear that something in me wasn't wired right, that I was defective in a way I couldn't even begin to imagine.

My eyes flicked back to the screen, rereading the AI's response as if hoping the words might rearrange themselves into something more comforting. They didn't.

“Thanks," I typed, my fingers trembling, foot tapping frantically against the smooth floorboards of my flat. “I guess I just don't know what to do. I don't know how to stop feeling like this."

The AI replied quickly, its tone as steady as ever. It talked about self-acceptance, about giving myself time to explore and process my feelings. About how attraction didn't have to fit into tidy boxes.

It was good advice. Kind. Reasonable. 

And completely fucking useless.

I wanted to believe it. I wanted to hold onto its reassurances like a lifeline. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the question gnawing at the edges of my mind. The question I was too afraid to type.

One kiss—one kiss and my entire life spirals.

A single kiss.

…What if I never stop feeling like this?

The thought sat there, festering, until I couldn't take it anymore. I stared at my phone, thumb hovering over the screen. I scrolled to Sarah's name, desperation overcoming fear. My sister. The one person I trusted to at least try to take this seriously.

Maybe.

I began typing out a text.

“Hey…"

“You busy…?"

“Can we talk…?"

“Yo. Me and…"

“Is it weird…"

Only to delete each and every one of them. They were all too vague, too blunt, too…

…I can't do this over text.

My fingers trembled as I turned my phone back on, thumbed over to her contact and hit call. The ringing filled my ears, each buzz dragging out for an eternity. Maybe she wouldn't pick up, I hoped; maybe she'd be busy streaming or deep into some project for one of her clients.

But then the ringing stopped.

“Yo," she answered, her voice bright and casual, the polar opposite of the complete mess I currently was. Loud electronic music thumped faintly in the background. “What's up?"

“Uh..." My throat was already closing. “Hey. Can we... talk? Like, for real?"

There was a pause, the music cutting off. “Sure," she said slowly. “What's going on?"

The words caught in my throat. It sounded so dumb. So... ridiculous. “It's... It's about Alys."

“Alys?" She repeated, her voice lifting slightly. “Your, uh, dragon friend?"

“Yeah. Her." I fidgeted with the edge of my desk, chewing on my next words. “She, uh... kissed me."

Silence. Long enough that I actually checked my phone to make sure the call was still connected.

“Oh," Sarah said finally. There was no teasing in her tone, just surprise. “Okay. Wow. And you're calling me because...?"

“I didn't hate it," I blurted, the words spilling out in a rush. “Like, at all. And now I can't stop thinking about it. And I don't know what that means, or what's wrong with me, or—"

“Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sarah interrupted, cutting through my spiralling. “Hold on. Let me... process this for a second."

I froze, the lump in my throat tightening. Processing. That wasn't a great sign.

“So, Alys... kissed you," she said slowly, almost cautiously. “And... you liked it?"

“Yeah," I said, barely above a whisper.

She didn't speak right away, and I could almost hear the gears turning in her head. When she did, her voice was measured but uncertain. “Okay. I mean, that's... unexpected. I guess I didn't think dragons... did that."

“She's not just a dragon," I said quickly, a defensive edge to my tone. “She's a person. She's—"

“I'm not saying it's bad!" Sarah said, cutting me off before I could push forward. “It's just... weird, you know? Like, not bad-weird, just... weird-weird. I'm trying to wrap my head around it."

“Yeah, well, try being me."

She let out a small laugh, though it was more nervous than amused. “Fairs. Okay, so... you, uh, kinda like her. And now you're freaking out because...?"

“Because it's wrong, Sarah," I said, my voice cracking. “She's a dragon. She has scales and wings and—" I broke off, heat rushing to my face. “It's not... normal."

“Okay, but who says it's wrong?" She countered, her tone hesitant but firm. “It's... unconventional, sure. But you're not exactly running around kissing random dragons, right? You're talking about Alys. Specifically, her."

“Yeah, but—"

“But nothing," she said, though her voice wavered slightly, like she was still convincing herself. “It's not like you're hurting anyone. And it's not like you planned this. Feelings just... happen sometimes."

I stayed silent, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak.

She sighed, and I could picture her running a hand through her hair, the way she always did when she was thinking. “Look, I'm not saying it's not weird. It is. But weird doesn't mean bad, James. It just means... unexpected."

“But what if it's not just her?" I said quietly. “What if I'm just... wrong?"

“Wrong?" She repeated, her voice soft but incredulous. “James, come on."

“I mean..." I said, my voice shaking. “Normal people don't feel this way."

“Okay, but what's normal, really?" She asked, though there was a note of hesitation in her voice. “I mean, yeah, this isn't exactly standard rom-com material, but that doesn't mean there's something wrong with you. It just means you're... figuring things out. And honestly? It sounds like you care about her."

“I do," I admitted, my voice barely audible. “But what if I only think it's about her? What if it's... more than that?"

Another pause. When she spoke again, her voice was careful, like she was choosing each word with precision. “Do you feel that way about anyone else? Any other dragons?"

“No," I said immediately. “Just her. I think."

“Then maybe it really is just her," she said, her tone thoughtful. “And if that's the case, then... I don't think it's as big of a deal as you're making it out to be. It's weird, yeah, but it's not like you're a monster for liking her."

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “But what if people find out?"

“James, the only people who'd think that are the kind of people whose opinions don't matter," she said, her voice firm. “Besides, haven't you posted pictures of her, just for fun? Because you like her?"

“Yeah," I said.

“Then that's what matters," she said gently. “It's okay to be scared. This is new, and it's not something most people deal with. But you're not broken. You're just... figuring out what feels right for you. And if Alys makes you happy, then that's worth figuring out."

Her words hit me like a lifeline, but I couldn't quite grab onto it. Not yet.

“You make it sound so easy," I muttered.

“It's not easy," she said. “But it's not the end of the world, either. You're allowed to feel what you feel, James. Even if it's a little... unconventional."

I let out a shaky laugh, the knot in my chest loosening slightly. “Thanks, Sarah."

“Anytime," she said, her voice warm but still a little tentative. “And hey, if you need to talk more, I'm here, okay? I might need a minute to, like... process again, but I'll always listen."

“Yeah," I said softly. “Thanks."

“Now," she added, her tone lighter, “go get some sleep. You sound wrecked."

I laughed faintly. “Yeah. Night, Sarah."

“Night, James."

The call ended, and her words lingered in my mind.

It's weird, but not bad.

Maybe she was right. Maybe it wasn't bad.

But...

But even if I was at last able to somewhat understand my feelings, even if I could admit that there was something between us, what did it matter?

Was I going to ask her out?

Were we suddenly going to start dating?

Hand in paw into the sunset?

No…

I wasn't sure I could. I was a wreck, in every meaning of the word, and I felt that she... she deserved better. She'd been through so much already that I didn't want to drag her down into my mess.

And besides, chatting with my sister was one thing, but if we were together, and she leaned in for another kiss, and I freaked out…? And sex, if it ever got that far?

No. I needed time, maybe more than she and I had.

We need to talk.

I swiped away from Sarah, my thumb hovering over Alys' contact, the memory of our last conversation replaying relentlessly in my head. The messages from our café trip sat at the top of our chat history—cute, teasing exchanges that felt like they belonged to a different time. Now, they were overshadowed by her most recent message.

Somehow, in all my mental thrashing, I had missed her attempt at contact.

"James... I don't know if you even want to hear from me right now. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. But I have to say I'm sorry. I crossed a line I shouldn't have, and it wasn't fair to you. I let my instincts take over, and I know that's not an excuse. I didn't think about how you felt, and I'm sorry. I just... I hope you can forgive me, even if you need time."

I read it over and over, my heart racing. The apology was clear, genuine, but also heavy. The word instincts stood out, a weight that I didn't quite know how to carry. Yet, despite the confusion and frustration rolling around in me, she deserved a response.

“Hey," I typed back after a long moment, only to immediately realise how blasé it sounded. I bit my lip and focused up.

"Got your message. I'm still processing everything. I don't want you to think I'm ignoring you or anything. I just need some time to figure out some things. We should talk soon. Just not now, okay?"

Her reply came instantly: "Thank you." Then a pause. “I hope you're doing okay."

I paused, fingers poised over the keypad, but couldn't bring myself to continue. Instead, I closed the chat and leaned back in my chair, letting out a shaky breath. Some of the tension within me began to unwind, but only slightly. At least now, the air was clear—clearer, anyway.

Still restless, I opened my games library and scrolled aimlessly. Nothing caught my interest, but I clicked on Ark out of habit. The grind of collecting resources and mindless building offered some distraction as the hours dragged on. By the time I shut my computer down, the heaviness in my chest had dulled enough for exhaustion to take over.

The bathroom was thick with steam as I stood under the shower, letting the near-scalding water cascade over me. It wasn't just about getting clean; it was about washing away the stress, the tension, and the emotions I didn't fully understand. The heat on my skin was grounding in a way that my thoughts weren't.

When I finally collapsed into bed, the messy tangle of blankets and pillows felt like a refuge. But sleep didn't come easily. My mind raced, jumping between memories of Alys, the weight of her message, and the impossible complexity of our situation.

Eventually, I drifted off.

The screech of my alarm startled me awake. Bleary-eyed, I slapped at the clock until it quieted. My phone buzzed beside me, the bright glow of a new message cutting through my morning haze.

It was from Alys—a wall of text, sent at 7:22 AM:

“Hey, James, I need to know if you still want to meet. Should we meet at the café? The one we went to last time? Or somewhere else? I don't want to push you. I'll go anywhere you want. Morning or afternoon? I'm free whenever. Just text me. I really need to see you. Please let me know what works for you. I can wait if you need time, but I hope we can talk soon."

My groggy mind struggled to process the words. She sounded so anxious, so unlike the confident Alys I'd come to know. I rubbed my face and quickly typed a reply:

“Yeah, we can meet today. I'm not sure where, but sometime this afternoon should be good. Maybe not the café?"

I hesitated, debating whether to suggest something else entirely. Then I typed, “You could come to mine for a minute? Not being weird, just a comfortable place away from the public eye. Does this sound cool?"

Her response was almost immediate. “Really? You're okay with that? I can be there whenever! Just tell me what time works for you. I promise I won't take up too much of your time. I just really need to talk to you about everything."

The flood of her enthusiasm was overwhelming, but there was also relief beneath it. “How about around 11?" I offered after a pause.

“Sounds perfect! I'll bring some snacks, if that's okay? I just want to make it a little less serious, you know?"

“Snacks sound good. Just don't bring anything too messy."

“Perfect!" She replied, the energy radiating through her words. “I promise I won't make a mess. I'll see you soon, James. Thank you for giving me this chance."

After sending her my address, the conversation left me staring at my phone, a faint ache of guilt settling in my chest. It wasn't just that Alys seemed eager—it was the sense of desperation beneath her words that stuck with me.

I shook it off and stood, taking stock of my living space. The bachelor pad aesthetic was fine for me but would be less than impressive for a guest, dragon or otherwise. Piles of socks, shirts, and half-empty energy drinks cluttered the space, and the bookshelves were barren save for dust. The kitchen wasn't much better; plates and cups were stacked in the sink, a silent accusation of my procrastination.

“Alright," I muttered to myself, rolling up my sleeves. “Let's do this."

A few hours later, the apartment looked... respectable. The vacuum had done its job, and I'd gone through every surface with a vengeance. The living room no longer looked like a war zone, and the faint scent of air freshener mingled with the cool breeze coming in through the windows.

I even swapped into a clean shirt and jeans, double-checking the time. At 10:45, my phone buzzed.

“Nearly there. Am I still allowed over? Are you doing okay?"

I typed back quickly, “Yes. Doing fine. Just watching TV. You?"

“Flying. Doing okay, just a bit tired."

The simplicity of her response settled something in me, though the tension hadn't fully dissipated. The minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow, until the buzzer rang.

My heart leapt. I took a steadying breath and approached the door, unlocking it with careful deliberation.

“H-hey," Alys greeted, raising a paw awkwardly, rustling her modified backpack.

“Hey," I replied, stepping aside to let her in. “Do you wanna come in?"

She hesitated, then nodded. Her wings brushed the doorway as she maneuvered herself through, and I winced. “Sorry, these are single. You might have to—"

She adjusted herself, folding her wings tighter to squeeze through, scraping her sides. “Thanks," she murmured as she entered, her eyes darting around the room. Her nostrils flared slightly, taking in the faint scent of lavender from the air freshener.

“You can sit wherever," I offered, gesturing to the couch. “Want a Coke or something?"

“Water, please," she replied softly, her voice unusually tight. “In a mug, if that's okay? Glasses are hard to hold."

I nodded, quickly busying myself in the kitchen, scrubbing at the stubborn coffee stains in my favourite mug. The running water gave me something to focus on, something that didn't have bright red eyes watching my every move.

When I glanced over, just to make sure she was still there, I paused.

Alys was perched awkwardly on the sofa, her legs tucked in that odd, froglike way that made her look small for a dragon. She wasn't lounging about, taking up most of the cushions like she had in the coffee shop. Instead, her tail curled tightly around her claws, and her head hung low. It was the kind of posture that screamed discomfort, maybe even guilt.

I swallowed hard, setting the mug beneath the tap and filling it up. “You look... uh, like you're about to leap off that sofa any second."

She didn't laugh. “I don't know how else to sit here. Normally I just lay down," she admitted, her voice low.

When I handed the full cup to her, her claws wrapped around it carefully—two claws conspicuously shorter than the rest. The sight made me pause.

Her claws were broken, I realised far too slowly.

“Alys," I murmured, eyes fixed on her shortened claws. “Your claws… What happened?"

Her wings shifted uneasily, folding tighter around her frame like a shield. Her tail curled around her backpaws, the motion almost protective. She glanced at her paw, as if noticing it for the first time. “It's nothing," she muttered, her voice low. “I, uh... I crashed into a tree. They broke." She took a long sip, likely to avoid talking, her tongue darting in to lap at the water.

My gaze didn't waver. “They don't just... break. Alys, did something happen?" I didn't know if it was true. I was just pushing, like an idiot.

She hesitated, then sighed, her shoulders slumping. “If I'd left them as they were, they'd grow back wrong. So, I had to... chew them down." Her voice was brittle, the words forced. “It's like breaking a horn—they'll regrow, but it takes time."

The explanation left a hollow feeling in my chest. She was lying, and I didn't know why. “I didn't know claws could grow back."

“They can," she said, avoiding my gaze. Her ears twitched slightly, an involuntary reaction. “Warm seasons help. It's faster when it's hot."

Alys' eyes flicked to mine for a brief moment, then away, her expression tight. Her horns caught my attention next, longer and slightly uneven with small hooked growths along the edges. The ridges of her snout furrowed as she spoke, her scales duller than usual. She looked worn down.

“Warm seasons," I echoed, more to fill the silence than anything else. “You mean... heat?"

“...Yes," she replied softly, her claws tightening on the mug. The fine fingers of her wings fluttered as she spoke. “I'm in heat. I-It's messing with me—more than it usually does." She shifted uncomfortably on the couch, hindlegs searching for a better position. “Normally, I'd sleep through most of it, but I can't this time. Work keeps me moving. Plus, I've got to look after Jarys."

Her words hung in the air, and I found myself staring at her, the tension in the room crackling like static. Then, quietly, I asked the question I'd been dreading.

“Is that why you kissed me?"

The room fell silent. Her ears flicked, her wings tightened around her, but she didn't answer.

“Alys," I pressed gently, “was it just the heat? Could you not... control yourself?"

The silence was deafening, allowing me to hear just how loud my heart was.

“I don't know," she whispered at last, her voice so quiet I almost didn't hear it. Her claws tapped against the mug rhythmically, her gaze distant. “Maybe it was. Most of it was, I think. The play fight, the sugar rush, the... heat... B-But maybe..."

Her voice trailed off into a mumble, and I leaned forward, chest tightening painfully in fear of her answer. “Maybe what?"

She took a shaky breath, her gaze finally meeting mine. The slit pupils of her scarlet eyes contracted slightly, betraying her vulnerability. “Maybe some part of me wanted it," she admitted, her voice trembling with the weight of the words. “Maybe I needed it. Maybe I needed you to want it too."

The room seemed to freeze. My heart thundered louder in my chest, every word hitting like a sledgehammer.

“Alys," I started, my throat dry, but she wasn't done.

“You're the only person who's treated me this well in... a long time," she continued, her scarlet eyes glistening. Her wings unfurled slightly before tightening back around her. “It's only been a month, James, but you have no idea how much you mean to me."

I swallowed hard, my mind racing to keep up with the cascade of emotions pouring out of her. “Alys, I..."

“I know I'm not easy to be around," she interrupted, her voice growing steadier, stronger. “I'm loud, I'm awkward, and I don't fit in anywhere. But you... you make me feel like I belong. You don't look at me like some monster or some thing. You just... see me."

Her words were like a knife, cutting through every wall I'd tried to build around myself. My mind reeled, torn between the enormity of what she was saying and the impossibility of what it meant. I had been hoping it was just the heat, that it had been a biological trick we could laugh at and move past.

“I..." I stammered, trying and failing to find the right words. “I never thought of it like that. I never thought you could ever... feel that way about me."

“Why?" She challenged, her tone unusually sharp. “Because I'm a dragon? Because I'm bigger or stronger than you? Because you're human?"

“No!" I shot back, startled by her sudden intensity. “Because you're you. You're confident, you're put together, and you... you don't seem like someone who'd really need anything from someone like me."

Her expression shifted, her shoulders sinking as the fire in her eyes dimmed. “I'm not put together," she murmured, almost to herself. “James, my life isn't great. It's a lot better than it was back home, sure, but... it's not... enough. The longer I'm here, the more I realise how much more I want. I don't just want to survive anymore."

Her voice broke slightly on the last word, and I felt something inside me crack.

“I have to put on a strong front," she continued. “For Jarys, for Rhys... for everyone. They rely on me, and I can't let them see me fall apart. But it's s-so fucking lonely, James. If I'm not working, I'm sleeping, or taking care of Jarys, or trying to keep everything from falling apart. And then... you came along."

She paused, her gaze softening as it rested on me. “You were kind and funny, and... you made me feel like I wasn't alone. I-It was the small things—talking to me at work, helping me, even just showing up at the party meant so much to me... and when you gave him a gift..."

I leant back against my kitchen counter, the weight of her words pressing down on me. It was too much—too raw, too real. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to make sense of it all.

“Alys," I said slowly, my voice trembling. “I get it. I really do. And I care about you—I really do care about you. But... I don't think I'm what you need right now."

Her eyes widened, a flicker of hurt crossing her face. “Why not?"

“Because I'm a mess," I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “My life is a disaster. I work a dead-end job, I dropped out of community college, and I can barely remember to keep my apartment clean. You deserve better than that. You deserve better than me."

Her expression hardened, determination replacing the vulnerability. “I don't care if your life is messy, James. I care about you."

F-Fuck.

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I felt myself wavering, faltering.

But I couldn't let myself give in—not like this, not yet.

“I care about you too," I said quietly, my voice thick with emotion. “But this... it's not simple. It's not just about feelings. It's about timing, and right now, I'm not ready for this. I don't want to start something I can't give my all to."

Her wings drooped slightly, ears falling flat, the hope in her eyes dimming. “So... not now," she murmured, her voice tinged with sadness. “But not never?"

I hesitated, then nodded slowly, hoping she didn't sense the reluctance in me. “N-Not now. Let's just... give it time. See where we both are later on. I need to figure some things out, and I think you do too."

She studied me for a long moment, then nodded, her expression softening. “Okay. Time. I can do that." Her words sent a surge of guilt through me, but I didn't have the heart to say anything.

The tension in the room began to ease, the air growing lighter despite the heavy conversation. Alys leaned back against the sofa, her claws still wrapped around the mug as she took a long sip of water. Her wings twitched, and for the first time since she'd arrived, I saw a glimmer of her usual self breaking through.

“So," I said, forcing a shaky smile to bridge the moment. “How about those snacks you promised me?"

She let out a small, genuine laugh, a sound that eased some of the tightness in my chest. It was an inhuman sound, one more akin to bird squawks, but that only made my smile widen. “Right. Snacks. You still hungry after all this? Or do you want me to try again later?"

The joke caught me off guard, and I blinked, then chuckled despite myself. “I think I'll survive. But yeah, maybe, uh, pace yourself on the whole trying again thing."

Her toothy grin widened, and the faintest blush dusted her dark scales. “Noted," she said, her tone teasing but softer than usual. “I'll keep my retry cooldown active for a bit."

We spent the next hour on the couch, trying to recapture the simplicity of what had been before. She pulled out a bag of crisps and some oddly shaped candies that looked suspiciously like something her brother had concocted. I put on the first Harry Potter movie, and we settled into a tentative rhythm of small talk and mutual distraction.

The awkwardness lingered, of course, as it should, but we both seemed determined to let the night end on a lighter note. When Alys finally stood to leave, citing it being dinnertime, she hesitated at the door, her forelimbs twitching slightly. For a moment, it looked like she might go for a hug, but instead, she just smiled.

“Thanks for letting me come over," she said softly, her usual confidence tempered with something quieter. “It... means a lot."

“Anytime," I replied, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. “You take care of yourself, okay?"

She nodded, her smile lingering for a moment longer before she slipped out the door.

The apartment felt impossibly quiet once she was gone. I stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, before finally sinking onto the sofa. My hands ran through my hair as I let out a long, shaky breath.

Finally alone, I could be honest with myself—truly honest.

If she were human...

If she were human, I wouldn't have hesitated.

I wouldn't have stopped to think about timing or complications or what either of us needed. I would have kissed her back fully, no questions asked.

An attractive girl I know kissing me in the middle of the park?

I'd have stood no chance...

And that thought scared me.

Alys wasn't human, and while that difference had forced me to slow down, to think... it also made me realise something. What she'd said about wanting more—about not being satisfied with just surviving—I felt that too. Maybe I didn't have the courage to admit it as boldly as she had, but it was there. I was stuck, coasting through a life that didn't feel like my own. And maybe it was time to change that.

I stood abruptly, pacing the small space of my living room before moving to my desk. My computer was still on, the monitor casting a faint glow over the cluttered surface. My fingers hovered over the mouse for a moment before I opened my bookmarks.

Near the top was a link I hadn't clicked in months:

BSc (Honours) Cyber SecurityCourse code: R70

I stared at it, my heart pounding. I'd completed the technology and math access module ages ago, but I hadn't followed through. I'd been too scared—of failing, of starting something new, of hoping for more. It didn't even guarantee a job, nor was it even an especially high honour, which was precisely why I'd given up.

But now... Now I just wanted to at least try.

I scrolled down to the start dates:

Sep 2024: Registration closes 01.09.2024.

- Start Date: 14.09.2024

May 2025: Registration closes 01.05.2025.

- Start Date: 14.05.2025

“That's... soon," I murmured, the weight of the deadline sinking in. “Why allow registration so close to the start date?"

My savings account flashed in my mind—a small but steady amount I'd unknowingly built up over the past year. It was enough to cover the course fees, and with the flexible hours, I could keep my job at the restaurant. We wouldn't see each other as much, but she had wings, and I had a phone.

“I can do this," I whispered, the words sounding almost foreign on my tongue. “I can do this."

With a deep breath, I steadied my hand and clicked the application link. The page loaded, asking for details, and I began typing. My heart raced, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn't out of fear—it was hope.

.....

The next morning, I woke to the faint buzz of my phone. Alys had sent another message.

“Thanks again for yesterday. I'll try not to botch it so badly next time. Maybe round two will go better?"

A small, tired smile tugged at my lips. Her words were playful but grounded, a reminder that despite everything, we would be friends and that maybe... maybe she was serious about trying again.

“Eh, I'll allow it, but only because I feel bad for how badly you lost the first time."

Her reply came moments later: “Woooow. Harsh."

I set my phone down and glanced up at the ceiling through bleary eyes.

Maybe Alys was right—about both of us. Maybe wanting more wasn't such a bad thing after all, in all manners of life.

The End of Part One.