I noticed how difficult it was for him to express himself. He was usually so tough and reserved. I had learned since day one that being emotional was not his thing.
Layton had no idea how much it meant for him to be telling me that though. I beamed at his words.
"I know you love me. If you didn’t, I would’ve dumped your butt long ago," I told him.
"I still can’t believe you’re something else," he said, as he ran a hand through my wings.
The white in them would illuminate in little sparks of light wherever he touched them.
"I feel small shocks where I touch them," Layton told me, a huge grin plastered on his face.
"Do you mind? The wings, I mean," I awkwardly asked.
"Are you serious?" He asked incredulously.
I gave him a sheepish nod, and waited for him to reply
"Do you mind that I’m a Werewolf?"
"Huh?" I asked, confused that he’d thrown that question in the air.