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You groan. Your closet has never been so intimidating.

You check your phone again, pulling up your conversation with Joanne. "Just dress casual! :)" she said when finalizing the date. It's been so long since you've needed to dress up that you're not sure what 'casual' means. Does she literally mean shorts and a t-shirt, or something more? Images of the wolf woman showing up in a dress to find you in an 'Ohm My God!' shirt drift through your head. Better go with the polo.

You and Joanne have been getting along well. You haven't seen each other in person since you met last week, but you've talked almost every day. The fact she initiated most of the conversations makes you feel a little guilty. Even if you were trying to work around her busy schedule, it seemed like you weren't interested. At least, you think it seems that way. Which you're not -- you're very interested!

You shake your head to try and clear away the mess. You're agonizing over this too much. It being the first shot at a relationship you've had in a while probably doesn't help, especially because of how well it's gone. Joanne is sweet, her affection clear through her messages. Even if there's a lot of emojis involved and you're not sure if it's all too fast, you can't deny it feels nice. She's clearly enjoyed getting to know you as well, asking after your hobbies outside of electronics work. The two of you don't have a ton in common, at least on the surface, but that's not bad.

You wonder if it's why Hugh.Meet never showed the two of you to each other.

Just as you're dressed and convinced you didn't use too much cologne, a loud buzzing fills the apartment. You jump a little -- no one's used the doorbell since you moved in. You told her she could just text...

Gotta push down the annoyance. Wouldn't make for a good impression on your first date. The thought sends shivers through you as you head for the door. It almost doesn't feel real. But the large wolf woman on your doorstep is impossible to ignore. Joanne exudes just as much positive energy as when you first met, brightening the night with her smile.

"Good evening, Anon!"

"Hey, Joanne," you say. You've got to crane your neck to give her a once-over; the short, black dress she's wearing isn't too fancy, but you're glad you went with the polo. The tupperware in her paws catches your eye. "What's that?"

"I made you some cookies!" she says, opening it up. "Go on, give them a try!"

"Oh... thank you, Joanne," you say. The cookies are unusual looking, covered in chocolate. "Chocolate, huh? Can you, uh, eat that?"

"Of course!" she replies. "That's an animal thing, sweetie. Unless we're allergic, most anthros can have everything humans can."

You nod as you take a bite of a cookie. There's an airy crunch, and the wolfess looks down expectantly as sweetness coats your mouth.

"I like them. They kind of taste like Whoppers -- how'd you do that?"

"Just some malt powder and milk powder. Maybe I could show you some time!" she says. Her tail almost whacks the handrail on the front steps.

"Uh, maybe!" you say, taking the tin. "But lets focus on this date first."

The word sends a thrill through you; the way Joanne's ears perk up make it clear she felt it too.

"Y-yes! Of course," she says. She offers you her arm after you put the cookies on the counter for later.

"Oh. Uhh..."

You try to link arms with her, but her hips are shoulder-height for you. Plus, her forearm is almost too big for you to wrap your arm around. Joanne chuckles and puts her arm over your shoulder instead, pulling you into her hip.

"There! How about this?" she says.

God, she's soft.

"Y-yeah, all good."

The wolf doesn't hesitate, barely letting you lock up before sauntering down the front steps. The fabric of her dress rubs up against you with each stair.

"So, you've never seen this movie before?" she asks.

"N-nope," you reply, trying to ignore the give beneath her clothes. "Heard of it, but never seen it."

"It's good! I think you'll like it."

You're not surprised the car she leads you to is new and pricey, an upscale SUV of some kind. Nor is it surprising that it's her size. The passenger door opens as she walks you to it -- the whole thing kneels to the side like a bus.

"Hop in!"

You actually have to jump a little to get in. Fortunately there's a few built-in handholds. Joanne goes to the other side with a spring in her step and climbs in, the car shifting silently back to level. The seating arrangement is something you've only ever seen in movies -- you've never been in a modern car designed for someone her size. It's a bench with adjustable seatbelt slots, making it much easier for larger anthros like her to actually fit along with others.

It also puts you right next to her.

The car is nearly silent when the wolf turns it on. The console monitor flashes "autodrive" after she taps at the steering wheel buttons, and the two of you begin to move with an ethereal hum. Joanne relaxes next to you when it's back on the road proper.

"So, how was your day?" she asks, looking down at you.

"It was alright," you say. "It's my day off, so I ran some errands. Treated myself with a trip to the thrift store."

"Oh, nice! Did you find anything?"

"Not too much," you sigh. "Most of the places around here are practically just clothing stores now. And it's not like I need more of those."

Joanne hums sympathetically, her features drooping a little

"You look really nice, by the way," you add. The wolf's expression brightens back to normal; she coos while giving you a closed-eyed smile.

"Aww, thank you, Anon!" she says, her hands clasped and pressed against her chest. "I'm glad you like it! You look good too!"

"W-well, that's good," you chuckle. "I was worried about overdressing, or looking like a schlubb."

"No, no, it's only a movie -- there's no need to get all dressed up."

She rubs your shoulder, pinching the fabric between her fingers.

"This is just perfect," she says. "I-is it a thriftstore find?"

"N-no, I... I don't think so?" you reply, pushing down the jitters by thinking about your outfit. "I'm pretty sure I got it before college... From Bullseye, maybe?"

Joanne nods. Her hands go to her thighs, pulling her dress taut. Her nails dig into her thighs a little.

"That fits," she says. "I-I probably overdressed a little, to be honest. I wanted to make a good first impression."

"...Well, I was having the same conversation with the mirror before you came," you reply. "Don't worry about it."

The wolf relaxes a little bit, the car leaning her against you as it turns.

"Thank you, Anon."

Your eyes linger on each other until the silence gets a little too awkward. She looks out the window while you take in the car's interior, lit softly by hidden lights. It almost looks brand new. Everything looks clean outside of the occasional errant bump or scratch in the plastic. No stains taint the seat cushions or floor mats. And there's no junk floating around the cab -- not even an air freshener.

You suppose a bench seat makes it hard to let it get messy safely.

"A-Anon, do you mind if I ask you something?"

You look back at Joanne, finding a little tension in her features. Despite the knots in your stomach, you nod.

"Why do you have that nickname?" she asks.

"Oh," you sigh. "Remember how you thought my name was 'Anne' when I answered the phone?"

"Yes -- that's not your actual name, is it?"

"No, no," you reply. "I was trying to say 'A. N.' Think 'A.J.,' but with an N."

Joanne's ears rise in time with her "ooo."

"Yep," you nod. "'Anon' is a lot more clear. And I got made fun of less in highschool for it."

The wolf chuckles softly, her tail rubbing against the leather seat.

"I imagine," she says. "But what does A. N. stand for?"

Reflexively, you're a little hesitant to answer. But her blue eyes hold no malice -- you doubt she'll hold it against you.

"Alfred Newpenny," you reply quietly. Her ears perk up.

"You mean like --"

"Yes, like from Batman," you sigh. "My parents really liked the Dark Knight trilogy..."

Joanne laughs, just like most others you've told. But her chuckles are cheerful, backed by a low coo. You stiffen when she awkwardly wraps her arms around you and holds you close.

"Oh, Anon," she says, squeezing you into her side. "I'm sorry! Explaining it must get tiring after a while."

"Y-yeah," you stutter after a second. Your face is pressed into the side of a particularly soft and large curve. She smells sweet, the exact scent hard to place. It lingers when she lets you go with a small noise of embarrassment.

"I-I think 'Alfred' is cute," she says quietly, her blush shining through her fur. "B-but I'll still call you Anon!"

"T-thanks..."

Joanne turns to face the wheel more directly, giving you a little space. The silence returns as you process the hug, and you can practically feel the nerves radiating off her. You push down your mixed feelings; she tried saving the two of you from an awkward car ride first, you should repay the favor.

"S-so, why this movie?" you ask. The wolf straightens a little, but in a good way.

"Well, I thought it would be a good one for us! It's slow but not boring, there's action and tension, and it's really interesting!"

She turns to you, most of the tension from before gone. "Did you know it's based on a book?"

"No, I didn't. Is it close?"

"Yes, actually! There are a few different scenes, but the Coens stayed pretty faithful."

You're glad the car has autodrive; Joanne isn't paying attention to anything besides you and the film now. Probably the film more than you -- she's only glancing at you occasionally as she discusses how unique Cormac McCarthy's style is, and how difficult it must've been to work it into such a good script. You knew from your text conversations she was into movies, but you didn't realize she was this into them. All of the awkwardness seems to be gone as she goes on about how quickly the movie was made. You hope things will stay this casual in the theater.

Joanne keeps things going the rest of the trip there. You only chime in a few times with hums and nods. You're about to point out the bright lights of the movie theater when the car does it for you, announcing your arrival with a pleasant ping. The wolf makes a cute noise of surprise and scrambles for the wheel, her ears laying flat with a slight blush.

"...A-and here we are!" she says, taking control with a slight bump of the gas pedal. "With plenty of time for previews!"

"They do that during matinees?"

"No, and this isn't a matinee," she chuckles, pulling into the lot. "Just a joke. Have you ever been to one before?"

"A matinee? No, I don't think so. What are we seeing, if it's not a matinee?"

"The theater calls it 'Flashback Cinema,'" she says. "It's just a way to show the classics again. Last week was Pan's Labyrinth, and next week is District 9."

"A matinee is just a showing before 4pm," she adds as she pulls into a spot.

"Ahh. You're really into movies, huh?" you say as the two of you come to a stop. She nods, unclicking her seatbelt.

"I wanted to be a director when I first went into college. That's how I ended up with a photography minor and a photography hobby," she chuckles. She exits the car with surprising speed for her size; her voluminous hair is a bright streak on the windshield as she rushes over to your side.

"There you are!" she says, opening the door for you. It feels strange stepping out -- and you're not talking about the way the car kneels for you. Joanne holds your door with a huge smile, her tail wagging madly as she looms over you. Her black dress almost makes her blend in with the night, the edges of her figure highlighted by the occasional parking lot light.

You realize you're staring and blurt out a quick "T-thanks!"

"No problem!" she says, wrapping an arm around you again. Your feet scrape against the ground as the wolf practically pulls you through the parking lot. The gentle thump of her tail against your back confirms she's excited. You brace yourself for stares when the two of you near the entrance, but most people don't seem to care. Joanne opens the door for you once more; the smell of popcorn and air freshener washes over you. It's been a while since you've been to the theater. You find yourself missing the wolf's guidance a little as she leads the way with a bouncing tail.

"Thanks for paying for this, by the way," you say.

"Of course!" she says. "I'm the one with a Super Viewer membership -- it's literally a free movie for me."

You hang by her side awkwardly while the bored-looking ferret scans her card. The size difference between you two makes it feel like you're at the check-out counter with your mother. She thankfully doesn't take your hand when he's finished, opting to let you follow her over to the snack bar on your own.

"Is there anything you'd like, Anon?" she asks. "It's my treat!"

"Oh... uh, just popcorn, I guess," you say, fumbling for your wallet. "I can pay."

"No, don't worry about it!" she says. She grabs your arm. "I've got the membership, I get discounts."

"Plus, the popcorn is free with me," she adds with a wink. Her smile is warm, but something still doesn't sit right with you.

"Alright," you say, pulling free. "I'll have a rootbeer."

The wolf suppresses a coo, her tail wagging. "You know, you can have the real thing if you want. They serve alcohol here."

"Just the rootbeer is fine."

Joanne doesn't push any further. She nods and makes the order, scanning her phone so they know which theater to bring it to right when the movie starts. You're somewhat impressed as she leads the way; apparently being a 'Super Viewer' comes with a lot of perks. The seating arrangement certainly makes it seem that way. The wolf brings you to a series of what look like curved couches in the middle of the theater. Each has a pair of small tables that reach over the seats, and it looks like the individual halves recline and extend their legs separately.

And fortunately, they look big enough for her.

"Jeeze, is this a members-only spot?" you ask, scoping out the red cushions.

"Yep! Members have first dibs," she says, sitting down with a smile. "You don't go to the movies much, do you?"

"No, not really..."

You keep your groan quiet as you relax into the cushions. They feel as heavenly as they look. You almost forget the huge wolf next to you until she chuckles. Joanne's on her side just an arm length away, propping her head on her hand as she smiles down at you.

"You've never gotten one of these seats before, huh?" she asks. You shake your head, debating whether or not you should close your eyes. The softness of the cushions makes it tempting.

"No, never," you say. "It's always been the normal recliner seats."

You turn back to her, still sunk into the seat. "I don't think these were here the last time I was at the theater."

The cushions squeak a little as the wolfess leans down and rests her chin on her hand.

"When was the last time you were here?" she asks, eyes bright.

"College, maybe? Highschool for sure."

She gives you an expectant look, slightly embarrassed.

"A good five years ago," you say quietly. You squeeze the cushion; Joanne lets out a slight yelp that almost sends you out of your skin.

"W-what? What did I --?"

You glance down and see her fluffy tail, sitting there between you. Suddenly the unusual silkiness of the seats makes sense.

"I-it was just my --"

"Oh. Oh-oh-oh! I'm sorry," you say quickly, "I just didn't see it! I-I was sinking into the seat, and --"

"No, it's my fault," the wolf says, pulling the fuzzy appendage back. "It's so big, I should've been more careful."

Some guilt washes over you as she struggles to comfortably tuck it away. Quirks aside, she's really sweet. And clearly almost as nervous as you are. You should cut her some slack about getting too close -- she's big, after all.

Joanne's fur stands on end when you reach out for her paw. You drift it down to her tail when she freezes.

"I-it's alright," you say. "I, uh, haven't been with an anthro like this in a while."

Her blue eyes stay wide as you give her tail a soft stroke.

"I'll try to be more careful."

You continue your stroking, waiting for her to say something or do something. You won't deny it feels pretty good. A slight tremor runs through the wolf as her expression melts into a grin, at once giddy and confident.

"T-thank you, Anon," she says, setting her hand down on yours. "T-that feels a lot nicer."

You pull your hand away with a nervous chuckle. "R-right. Where were we? The seats?"

"Oh! Yes, they probably weren't here. These are only two or three years old."

A flash of concern crosses Joanne's face. Maybe you pivoted too hard.

"I-I hope I didn't choose something you didn't like for a first -- our first outing," she says.

"W-what? No, No Country is fine! I haven't seen it before, it --"

"No, I meant as an activity!" she says hastily. A paw rests on your arm. "I-if you haven't seen a movie in that long, well, I don't want to take you to something you're not going to enjoy."

You disguise brushing off her hand with a shift onto your side. Which maybe is more intimate now that you think about it -- no time to change now.

"Ooooh, that's what you meant," you say. "I mean, I've watched movies during that time... just not in theaters."

The wolf cocks her head slightly and raises an eyebrow.

"I-I watched them at home on my computer," you say with a shrug. Now's probably not the time to mention where you get them from. "Going out to a theater by yourself is just... it's not the same as doing it with someone else, you know? And doing it at someone's apartment is a lot easier on a college budget."

Joanne nods, looking past you a little.

"That's fair!" she says. "Seeing movies by myself isn't the same as when I do it with my photo group or coworkers. But there's still a lot the theater can offer that home movies can't."

"A-and I hope this one with me will show you," she adds quickly. Her blush is much better hidden than yours, but you have a feeling her face is just as red beneath all that fur.

"H-hope so," you say, slowly turning onto your back. You check your watch to try and alleviate some tension: still 5 minutes or so before the movie is supposed to start. Joanne shifts with some soft, awkward noises beside you, trying to gauge how close she should be.

"Anon?" she asks. "Would you like me to show you some of the features these seats have?"

"Sure, I guess," you say. The wolf is across your lap the instant the words leave your mouth, warm fur and curves pressing up against you as she reaches for a disc on your armrest. The cushiony seat must be masking how tense you are.

"So, this is the instrument panel," she says, poking at the controls. "You can adjust the footrest and backrest like normal with these two buttons, but this section here has the extra features."

The floof of her tail brushes against your face as it wags with purpose. It's softer than the rest of her, but not by much.

"You can make it warmer or colder, rigid or soft -- there's even a massage function!"

She giggles when you grunt. Not at the sensation of the rollers she just turned on, but at the fact your hand is trapped under her chest.

"There's also some sound quality controls for the movie -- you can adjust your local surround sound with these. But that's about it."

You exhale when she scoots back, settling back into her own seat with unusual grace and a smile -- her eyes are half-lidded.

"Any questions?" she asks, voice on the cusp of being husky.

"U-uh, yeah!" you manage. "S-so, is there anything I need to know going into this movie? Y-you said it's based on a book, is it part of a series? Is there some kind of -- setup I should know about?"

The wolf's eyes widen back to their normal size. "Oh! Well, not really. Kind of? It's complicated..."

You start adjusting your seat as Joanne gives you a crash course in McCarthy and neo-westerns. Asking her about films gave you some room before while keeping things amicable; you're glad it still seems to work. You nod along as she explains how the self-critique of the western genre started far before spaghetti westerns, doing your best to pay attention while getting comfortable in body and mind. The wealth of options available with the seat make the body part almost overwhelming. But it's still much easier than muddling through your thoughts.

Maybe it's just an energy thing. For being 43, the wolfess is full of life. She hasn't slowed down since the date started. You tend to be a little more relaxed -- the excitement of this date probably affected her, too, but still. Something's not quite comfortable yet. Joanne is extremely nice, and you doubt she intends to make things awkward or weird, but that feeling has been present throughout the night.

You shake your head slightly. You're overthinking it. The big wolf lady is really nice; she's taken you out for a movie, paid for everything, and even made you cookies. You think she's attractive, and --

--and good lord, did she sneak up on you.

Her tail is practically in your lap now, her body not far behind. You didn't even notice it while you nodded along about the reinvention and reinvigoration of genres. The heady topics can't be the only explanation -- God, she's so close you can feel the heat radiating off her.

Probably. Assuming it's not the seat. You check the dial and find yourself up against the armrest. The lights dim slightly when you're about to ask for some space. Joanne clips her lecture about the differences between post-modernism and post-westerns short with a small chirp.

"Oh, great! It should be starting soon," she says. The screen lights up with an old film-reel countdown. You feel the cushions shift a little as the wolfess backs off a hair, her ears flattened with embarrassment.

"S-sorry if I gushed at you," she chuckles, "I-I just... I really like film. I know that was probably a lot to take in."

You resist the urge to quip that she's a lot to take in.

"It's alright," you say instead. "It was a bit much, but I think I understood the big parts. Thanks."

Joanne's smile is what flattens her ears now. She goes to reply when an usher arrives -- you see a few more filtering through the dimly-lit seats.

"Ms. Treston?" she asks, addressing the wolf.

"Yes, that's us!" Joanne says. She pulls one of the tables over between the two of you. "Thank you so much!"

The usher sets her tray down and leaves with a wordless nod. You glance around the room as she leaves -- the theater's maybe half full, it appears. The sloshing of ice on plastic pulls you back to the food; Joanne holds your rootbeer and a bucket of popcorn out to you with a smile.

"There are cupholders in the arms," she says. She gestures to the floating table between the two of you. "I got a few other snacks. Feel free to dig in!"

The mini party spread is arranged with more delicacy than you were expecting. There's meat, cheese, and crackers, nuts, and dried fruit. You figured the theater would have something more junky and greasy on offer -- but Joanne is a doctor.

Then you notice the wine bucket. Joanne's pouring herself a glass, the white wine glowing a pale green like honeydew. She glances up at you and wiggles a second glass in her fingers.

"Would you like some, Anon? It's Cloudy Bay -- it's a little dry, but it's got a full flavor profile."

"N-nah, that's alright. Maybe later."

Joanne shrugs and takes a long sip. She sets the glass and bottle back in the tray, licking her lips.

"Rootbeer and white wine don't sound like they go together anyway."

You chuckle at the thought, feeling a little more at ease. Wine is a common thing to have on a date. She's not forcing it on you. There's probably nothing to worry about. You take a sip of your own drink and try to get comfortable without spilling the giant bucket of popcorn. Joanne's doing much the same, munching on a few things from the platter. You notice the table floats high enough for her to clear her legs -- you wonder if they're adjustable or if it's something she had to request.

A mechanical clack echoes around the theater as the counter on the screen hits the one minute mark and the lights dim to almost nothing; the wolf leans over towards you.

"I'll try to stay quiet during the movie, Anon, and only talk if you ask me questions," she whispers. "I might start gushing again otherwise."

You can just barely smell the wine on her breath.

"J-just tell me if I am, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," you whisper back. "I will, Joanne."

You hear her smile with a happy hum. Her blue eyes shine in the dim light for a moment as she sits back. She takes a deep breath, her chest rising in the dark, before she lets out a satisfied sigh. You do the same and relax into your seat, trying to empty your mind.

The movie helps. The opening scene and narration certainly capture your attention. When the cowboy returns home to his wife, though, their dry banter brings you back to the wolfess beside you. You notice her tail drifting beneath the table. She hasn't turned towards you yet, but you can feel her fur brushing your hand.

The tension of the night-time escapades stops you from addressing it much. You just move your hand, picking a few things from the platter. You glance over every now and then -- Joanne seems enthralled by the movie, her pricked ears standing out in the reflected light. Your mind drifts as Moss makes off with the briefcase and Anton traces his steps. The date has mostly gone well. Joanne's paid for the whole thing, and you'd be hard-pressed to call her unpleasant company.

The soft shift of the seat threatens to make you reconsider. Joanne is sitting under the table now, her tail fully in your lap. The soft squish of her hips just barely press against your thigh, but she's not invading your space otherwise. A hint of her sweet scent distracts you from the shootout at the hotel and Moss' escape with the briefcase. You're concerned she's being too nice, trying to draw you in. You've heard tales of cougars before -- both the mature kind and the feline kind. And she partially fits at least one of those profiles.

But not completely. The wolfess hasn't forced herself on you, nor has she asked to get physical. But the slight press of her leg against yours reinforces her attraction. She clearly cares, you're just not sure what she expects of the relationship. You're not sure what you expect, either. The press of her side on yours prevents you from fully thinking about it, along with the shootout through the bordertown. It's safe to say she's wanting something faster than you.

You're debating whether that's okay or not while Moss limps into Mexico when you feel her lean in. Her arm shifts around your shoulders, her presence pressing in on you. Her breath is warm against your ear as the cowboy wakes up in the hospital.

"You know, having a doctor as a partner has its perks..."

That's it.

Your popcorn spills as you flop around in the seat, its cloud-like nature making your progress slow. Joanne pulls away with a jolt as you fumble for the controls.

"A-Anon? What's going on?" she asks; you bat her hand away when she reaches for you and spill out of your seat. Her fur is on end and her blue eyes are wide when you pick yourself up.

"A-are you --"

"I'm fine, I just -- I just need a minute!"

You step back as she shifts forward and nearly knocks the table over.

"I can --"

"I need a minute alone," you interrupt again, "a minute without someone trying to cop a feel!"

There's a pause. The theater is silent save for the two cowboys talking on screen. That was louder than it should've been -- Joanne looks like she understood your intentions, if not the phrase.

"I-I'll be in the bathroom."

You turn heel and head for the exit. The wolf says your name, tries to protest, but it quickly turns into a whine when you don't stop. You almost do -- it's pretty piteous. People look at you on the way out. You ignore them just like you did her and burst out into the lobby, doing your best to try and look casual. The bathroom is unoccupied besides some guy in a stall. It makes you less self-conscious about splashing water on your face in a futile effort to cool down.

When the fun of staring at yourself in the mirror wears off, you take a seat in one of the stalls. The guilt of embarrassing not only yourself but your date quickly burns away the water on your face. Joanne has been nice to you this whole time and you repaid her by having a freakout in the place she goes to relax. You put your head in your hands and groan softly; first date in years, and you screwed up bad. Knowing it'd been her first in a while doesn't make it much better.

Maybe it does. She's been sweet to you since the day you met. The wolf didn't seem nervous over the phone, but in person she was stuttering and rushing. Just like you, she was desperate enough to look to a dating app for some kind of connection, and evidently had been having the same amount of luck. Actually hooking someone for once and being nervous could be why she's making her moves so quick.

Or maybe she just wants a quick boytoy. Wouldn't be the first doctor you've heard of doing that. Maybe she's your soulmate, if you're getting religious. Intentions good or less-good, you know it's not what you want. As much as you want a lot of physicality, as much as you'd like to feel every inch of her fur, you know you're not ready for it. It's been a while since you've actually tried to be on the market, and you want something that'll last. You'd rather not get burned again. Keeping it slow and getting to know each other is probably a good idea.

Going fast clearly went poorly, after all.

You get up from the toilet and head for the door when someone coughs in the stalls.

"You gonna wash your hands?"

After a second, you shake your head with a soft chuckle. The buttery smell of the lobby is refreshing, even with all the cleaning spray. Joanne isn't very far. She's easy to spot -- there are a few taller anthros milling around, but not many with a big box of Whoppers and a sad look.

...not many that look nearly as good as her, either.

She clutches the box slightly when she sees you. It doesn't stop her from striding your way with purpose. She stops with enough space between the two of you that you only have to look up a little bit to meet her eyes. Both of you try to speak for a few moments, tripping over each other with pained expressions. Then it's a staring match before she holds out the box of candy to you.

"H-here," she says. "I wanted to apologize for -- for making you uncomfortable."

"Don't, Joanne," you sigh. She whines; you're not sure if she's shaking the box on purpose or because she's nervous.

"I'm the one that should be saying sorry. I -- I should've just told you how I was feeling."

The milk balls rattle around in the box.

"And how's that?" she asks hesitantly. Your second sigh makes her tense up even more.

"Conflicted," you say. "I... I like you, Joanne. I liked some of those things you were doing. But I want to know you, too. Otherwise, it just -- I don't know what this thing between us is for."

The wolfess cocks her head slightly, moving from concern to confusion.

"I'm afraid you're just buttering me up and using me for fun," you say. Her expression goes back to worry.

"No! No, no, Anon! I'm not doing that! I -- I wouldn't want to! I-I want..."

She grabs her wrist and holds her hands tight to her stomach; the padding softens the rattle of the milk balls just a little.

"...y-you know."

"I... I do," you say. "I think."

Even stepping closer brings some light back to her eyes.

"But I meant what I said. I want to get to know you, Joanne. I want to take it slow."

Her tail wags tentatively behind her.

"S-so you still want to go out?" she asks, her ears slowly perking back up.

"--yeah," you say. "I told you, I like you. We just -- I just want some boundaries."

She gives you a clipped nod, eyes never leaving yours.

"I-if I hug you now, w-would that be breaking them?"

You give her an exaggerated sigh.

"Pushing them, but not breaking them."

The hug is fierce and soft at the same time. Joanne got down on a knee so you're not getting a face-full of cleavage, but you can definitely still feel every inch of her curves. Her muzzle goes over your shoulder; as you're immersed in her fur and hair, you finally figure out what she smells like: cranberries and oranges.

The wolf backs off quickly when you clear your throat.

"S-sorry!" she says with a nervous smile. It gets a little more solid when she offers her arm to you again. "Shall we go back to our seats?"

"How much of it is even left?" you ask.

"10, 20 minutes or so," she replies. "But there's still a lot that goes on. Anton --"

You shush her and take her arm, causing her ears to fold back in surprise.

"Don't spoil it. I want to see where this goes."

Joanne stares down at you for a moment. Then she pulls you tight to her side with a smile. You notice her eyes are half-lidded again as she leads you back to the theater.

Slowly.