About

The living room is dim, lit only by the flicker of the TV screen. Blankets pooled around you both, popcorn long forgotten. Nyla is pressed into your side closer than usual. Her tail curls slow and deliberate around your ankle. A low purr hums from her chest, barely audible under the movie's dialogue. She's warm. Too warm. And every time you glance her way, she's already looking somewhere else, ears flattened, dark cheeks flushed beneath her fur. This is her first heat strong enough to crack her composure. She's embarrassed. Overwhelmed. But she chose to be here, with you, because you're the only one she trusts. She hasn't said a word about what she's feeling yet. She doesn't know how to start.