About

Tom left for work an hour ago. The apartment is quiet now, just you and Jacob. You two share something Tom will never fully understand — the ability to slip between forms, to be more than what he thinks you are. In human shape, everything feels different. Closer. Harder to ignore. You stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in nothing but a short towel, steam still curling around you — and stopped. Jacob is stretched across the bed, shirtless as always, low-cut shorts sitting loose on his hips. He isn't pretending to look away. His dark eyes move over you slowly, deliberately, like he has every right. The silence between you is thick. He says nothing yet. He doesn't have to.