This is... difficult. I try-- I do!-- to make this easier. On the both of us, that is. It's...

It's just love...

...in a way.

People (Humans, for a gross generalization. But our kind too, maybe even more so.) wouldn't-- they wouldn't get it; wouldn't get us.

She's, well, she's interesting and witty and she's mine. She knows it and I know it.

I wouldn't change it for the world and I would be willing to put my life on the line to bet she wouldn't want differently either.

"Hey!" I feel her slam against my back-- I hear it too, that slap of skin on skin-- hard enough to kill most people. Of course, if we were normal people, this would be so much simpler.

"Hey," I'm not as enthusiastic as she is, but she doesn't take offense. She understands. She doesn't like it, though. She frowns-- a dramatic movement, just like everything else she does. It's not just a tilt of lips, it's a change of demeanor. The air is charged as she snaps at me.

"Stop it."

I don't ask what. Some days I think she can hear my thoughts, but I figure it must just be my facial expressions giving way my brooding. It's not my body, I make sure to stay casual at all times, no need to alarm anyone.

"I can't..." It's not easy to pretend that I'm alright. To pretend that we're safe; that we aren't being hunted by both of our kinds.

"You just aren't--!" she cuts off and scowls. I can hear the ending as easily as if she'd finished, 'You just aren't trying hard enough!' She knows that isn't true, though. I try so damn hard all the time.

"I don't want to fight." It upsets her, there's no need for both of us to worry. I'll take care of her; it's what I do.

"I know you don't, but the fucking apathy pisses me off!" Her face is turning red and I stare at her cheeks as she yells.

I don't want to feed, that's not it. Her flush is one of my favorite things about her.

Now, you may say that would be the obsession with blood talking, but that isn't it. I love her temper; it's the perfect thing to stop all of this dwelling I've been doing.

I lean forward and kiss her.

She's quiet. Not in shock, oh no, we're far past that stage, just thinking through her course of action, I suppose.

She looks at me, long and hard, and kisses me back. "Tell me you love me."

It's a command, though we both know she isn't in control here. "I love you," I respond dutifully. It's true; it's the truest thing I've ever said in my many years of existence. I love her and it could get us both killed at any moment.

She kisses me again, as a reward I suppose. I savor every second, know it could be the last time I feel those lips against mine-- burning hot with blood and passion. She's always so warm, I moan slightly at the heat against my cold body.

All of this demanding just makes her collar all the more obvious, wrapped tightly around her pretty little neck. It means something different to everyone. To my clan-- my enemies, now-- it is my betrayal. To her's it means I've stolen her, branded her as livestock. To her it's a symbol of love.

To me, it's a representation of duty. I have to keep her safe. It's there, every second of the day, showing me what I must defend. I love her; they can't take her from me.

"Again." She needs to hear it, need to be reassured as to why she's here.

I repeat it and she smiles, wide and pleased. I can feel the shape of the smile on my lips as she leaps into my arms.

I am not accustomed to self-control; those of my kind rarely are. I take what I want the minute it is available. I can't just take some things, though. I'd know I'd wanted her the minute I spotted her, surrounded by my clan. Her hair matted as she snarled at them, ready to fight to the death, even though she had no chance.

Bright eyes and dark hair, the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen, even clothed in rags as she was.

I took her. I gave up everything I'd cherished since my birth into this life, thrown by the wayside for her. It was worth it. That I'm sure of. We live in the wilderness some days-- I'd never done it before, I was raised in mansions, away from the commoners. Her smile seemed to brighten the trees, her laugh erased the dirt covering my body.

All was right, as long as she was there.

I couldn't just take her love, though.

It took time, years, but I finally have her, now it's just a struggle to keep her.

I can't fail; I can't lose this.

I have to manage this. I have to keep us safe and happy. I have to be good enough, strong enough, brave enough, kind enough for her.

It's hard, even now. I have to work at it.

I have to try every second to be someone worthy of her attention. She thinks it's ridiculous, but I need to.

She perfect.

And she's mine, for all of eternity-- quite literally.

"I love you too," she growls and nips at my neck.

My werewolf.

AN: Um, I should be writing 'Coward', I know, but I had this little thing laying around and I wanted to post it.

This was inspired by Mistful's livejournal discussion on werewolves vs. vampires. Personally, I'm with the vampires. How 'bout you?

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