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I wake to the sound of footsteps outside my room. Our room. Eve's room. I'm weary and half delirious for a few seconds before coming to terms with reality.

My sheath is still sat snug between Adrian's cheeks, my dick having retreated fully by now. Its a pleasant feeling that brings to mind a pleasant memory, but the sounds from outside instantly put me on edge.

Focus Kale. Stay calm. You're still at Eve's. You remember everything. You're okay. Well, sort of.

Better than okay, in some ways. The sex was incredible.

It was cowardly. It was amazing. It was terrifying.

Those flashbacks and intrusive thoughts that fought their way into my conscious the moment I had him on his back were more than a mindfuck. They almost ruined everything. I cant let that happen every time, but how am I supposed to avoid it?

Do I ask him: honey, would you mind if I only ever fuck you face down?

As if.

Come clean with him? Tell him what's been running through my mind?

What, and trigger his anxiety? Fuel his self-hatred? How would that help either of us?

I need somebody smarter than me to figure this out.

That, or I could face my failings head on.

Fuck, what happened to me? I never used to be like this.

So weak. So scared.

So sad.

It would be all too easy to shake off the blame and point fingers. Like, it's Ryan's fault for leading me on in the first place, setting me down this path. Or, it's Marty's fault for being an awful excuse for a person, for using Ryan, for using me. For abusing... for ra-

God. I'd almost forgotten.

More accurately, I tried to forget.

That conversation with Ryan in the middle of the night. That realization.

I don't want to think about it.

Now there's something I'm good at: not thinking.

I'm a fucking wreck.

I rub my eyes and rise. If I heard footsteps that means somebody's up. Hopefully that means it's no longer an ungodly hour.

I leave Adrian where he is, thankful that he's not a particularly light sleeper, and search for my boxers in the dark. My paws happen upon them fairly quickly and I pull them on before leaving the room. I hear movement coming from the dining room so I head there.

Eve is sat at the table, fiddling with her phone, a frown furrowing her brow, dressed in a plain tee and lounging shorts. She looks up at me as I enter and smiles. She puts her phone down and sizes me up.

"Morning, early riser," she says. I check the clock. It's six AM. I only got a couple more hours sleep after all. Better than nothing, I guess. "I'm getting to see a whole lot of topless Kale recently. Not that I'm complaining."

"Turns out I'm just a slut," I say, taking a seat beside her.

"Total himbo, huh?" She asks with a knowing nod. "The first step is admitting you have a problem."

"You got me. Total fucking himbo."

She laughs and grins wide, a spark of joy in her eyes.

This is how we cope: humor and sarcasm. It's our way to deflect and delay. It's our survival technique. It's what we've always done and how we've always been. Today, though, I'm suspicious of it.

She notices my trepidation and the joy leaves her just as quickly as it arrived. She places a paw on my shoulder. I hold hers in mine.

"Wanna talk?" She asks.

"I guess so," I say, but I fall silent instead of speaking.

I'm not doing so well at this, am I?

She carries the conversation, encouraging me. "Where do you want to start then, wolf boy?"

Where do I want to start? I should know, right? But I don't. Yesterday was...

It was a lot. I want to talk about it, to get all these swirling thoughts out of my head, to hear what Eve has to say, but I have no idea how. It's just so much. It's too much.

I close my eyes and wrack my brain. I can't leave her hanging like this, I cant waste this opportunity.

An idea materializes. I want to talk to Eve, but it doesn't have to be about me. At least, not immediately.

"I, uh, I wanted to ask what happened last night. With your date, I mean. You know, before I ruined everything."

"Hey, wolf boy, You didn't ruin anything, okay?" Her eyes are wide, my obvious guilt and discomfort clearly upsetting her. "What happened yesterday was not your fault." She waits for a reaction, I don't offer one. "Kale..."

"Look, I... I appreciate you saying that," I say.

She stares at me and tilts her head, deep in thought.

She settles on saying a single word: "okay."

"So, how was the date?" I ask.

She nods, inhales and gets into it. "I ended up inviting Jay over. I made dinner and got some wine in. I was going to see where the evening took us but, obviously, things didn't get that far. We had dinner, it was lovely. Well, it was decent. I'm not much of a cook, but I tried my best. Jay was great though, and he seemed to enjoy the food, and the night, and... well, me. After eating we moved outside. We were sat together with our wine, making conversation and eyes, when Adrian called. I didn't really want to answer, I was having such a good time and for a split second I considered ignoring it, but I couldn't. Obviously. Last time I ignored a call from Adrian... Well, I don't exactly need to tell you about that."

"No," I say, a chill creeping through me. "Of course not."

"So, I answered. He was stressed, clearly, and upset. He told me he couldn't get through to you, that you might be in danger... I'm sure you can fill in the blanks. I told Jay there was an emergency, that I had to go, immediately. He wasn't exactly happy about it, but he was as understanding as I could've hoped. I hopped into my car, drove, collected Adrian on the way... you know the rest."

"I guess so," I say. The memory of lying naked and staring up at the ceiling, high out of my mind, in Marty's apartment slips into my head. I reflexively cringe, scrunching my eyes shut for a second. "I'm sorry. I wish you weren't dragged into that."

"Kale, you goof, I love you. You were in trouble and I came to help. It's as simple as that. There's no point feeling guilty about it."

"It's not that simple Eve," I say.

She pauses, muzzle sealed.

"Maybe you're right. I don't really know what happened between you, Ryan and Marty last night."

"I guess not," I say.

"I can tell that part of you wants to talk about it, but I'm not going to push you. Please just remember that I'm here for you Kale, always. Okay?"

"Don't be like that," I say.

She blinks twice and cocks her head, taken aback.

"Like what?"

"All motherly and saintlike, it feels fake." If Eve is shocked by what I'm saying the same goes twice-over for me, but I don't stop talking, the words keep pouring out. "I'm not some emotionally unaware child, nor am I some personal project for you to tinker with and fix. I'm a shipwreck, long since sunk. Stop trying to haul me up."

"This isn't like you Kale."

"Isn't it? I'm an asshole through and through, Eve. I thought you would've figured that out by now."

"Oh, so that's it?" She sits straight and stares me down.

"What?"

"You're trying to take all the blame."

"I deserve it."

"Wow," she says, shaking her head. "I knew you had an arrogant streak wolf boy, but that is some next level narcissism."

I bristle and my tail whips to one side.

For a second I see the two of us from the outside. Look at me, I'm arguing with Eve. How the hell did that happen?

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means is you're trying to take all the misery for yourself. There's plenty to spread around, you know? You may be an asshole at times Kale, but you're not a fucking supervillain."

Then it clicks, and I get it. She's not angry at me, not really, she's trying to make a point.

"I'm sorry, Eve, but when it comes to this you don't know what you're talking about."

"No, I suppose I don't know a thing about self-hatred." Her matter-of-fact delivery combined with the clear implication of her words makes my stomach sink. "Believe me honey, since you're new to this self-hate thing I'll put it in simple terms: whatever shit you think you've done, it's nothing special. Everyone is fucking up all the time, and a lot of people, Marty for instance, are fucking up way worse than you ever will, so stop acting like you're the center of the universe and just talk to me like I'm your friend, because I fucking love you and I need you to be here with me right now, not stuck in your head."

"Eve, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. But it really isn't that simple. I know we're always there for one another, always positive, always optimistic. I know we try to shine a light and point each other in the right direction, but that's not always enough. We can't know the right thing to do or the right way to support one another every time. We just can't."

Her jaw shifts as she considers my words. "What exactly are you getting at?"

"I need... I don't know. I need somebody to tell me what a dick I've been. I want to be blamed and hated. I want to be held fucking accountable for once. I've been waiting for judgment, day after day, but it never comes. I've hurt people and used people, but all you and Adrian ever show me is kindness and lo-" My voice falters, then breaks. "And love. And I don't deserve it. I'm not worthy of it. You should hate me, both of you, Ryan too, but you don't."

"Kale that's... Jesus. Why do you think you deserve such all-encompassing hatred?"

"Why do you think I don't?"

"Come on Kale, of course you don't. You're a good person."

"Fuck that."

"Excuse me?"

"I said fuck that. I don't need this mollycoddling or this always-on validation. I have made mistakes and I have hurt people and brushing that off like it's nothing is not only dishonest, but damaging. How am I meant to learn and grow if I'm never challenged? How am I meant to become a better person if I know you'll always accept me as I am, flaws and all?"

She remains silent for a time, eyes locked onto mine. When she speaks she doesn't answer my questions, she doesn't address anything I've said, she simply asks: "what happened at Marty's?"

I'm upset and reactionary. I ask: "what does that have to do with anything?"

She stares at me blankly, as if I'm a fool.

"I want to know where all of this is coming from, because this isn't like you, wolf boy. Something triggered it. Look, if you're not ready to talk, that's fine, but until I know more," she shrugs. "I don't know what else to say to you."

Fuck.

She's right, at least partially. I'm not being fair. She needs to know the truth.

"I'll talk," I say. "I want to talk. I just- It's difficult. I don't know where to start."

"Then walk me through it step by step. I know the before, so what happened after Adrian left?"

I close my eyes and lean back in the chair. My mind conjures up the scene as if it were unfolding in front of me right here and now.

I tell her everything.

The gun. The talking. The drugs. The spacing out. The oral. The losing my mind. The breaking my phone. The drugs. The sex. Barely remembering it. God, it hurts. The total dissociation. Ryan. The arguing. Ryan. The attempt to leave. Being pushed to the floor. Ryan. Ryan. Fucking Ryan. It hurts so goddamn much. The coming to my senses. The throwing up. The getting up. The second attempt to leave.

Then she came in. Adrian too.

And that's it. The worst night of my life.

All it took was a few minutes of uninterrupted talking and it's out there, never again to be put back.

She knows now, and she always will.

Apart from one little detail.

The one that I've been doing all I can to not think about. The one that's threatening to tear my mind apart: I never told Marty he could fuck me.

That the memory is hazy doesn't excuse a thing. I never told him he could.... and that means...

It means I need to stop thinking about it. It means I can't afford to break down or feel sorry for myself. It means I can't...

I just can't.

"Oh god." She rubs the back of her head and grimaces. "I want to tell you I'm sorry you had to go through all that, and that none of it was your fault, but I know that's not what you want to hear."

"Its not," I confirm. "You don't need to be sorry for me, Ryan's the victim here. And I know, I know, Marty manipulated and used me so I'm not to blame, I get it. Ryan already told me that. But it's not true, is it? Not really."

"Then what is?"

"I took those drugs of my own accord. However much Marty may have influenced me, I set myself on that downward spiral. I let my worst impulses get the better of me again and again and Ryan paid the price for it. That's the truth."

"So what if it is?" Eve asks, calm and composed. My melodrama having little outward effect on her.

"Huh?"

"So what if that's true? Am I supposed to hate you because you had a terrible night and made some mistakes? Am I supposed to give up on you? Is that it? Are you past hope Kale, really? For nothing more than getting high when you shouldn't have?"

I shake my head and lash my tail.

"It's not just that."

"Then what else is it?"

"This whole fucking thing is my fault as much as anyone's. I've been arrogant and selfish. Marty led me on, sure, but I led him on too, and Ryan. I strung them along so I could live out some stupid alpha fantasy. How was I meant to resist? Three guys lusting after me? Fuck, that was heaven. I wanted to extend that feeling, and I did. I was acting out of selfish desire, not genuine interest. At the time I convinced myself it was something else, but looking back now it's obvious what it was. it was all for me.

"I was so fucking self-absorbed that I let Adrian slip. He almost died because of me. I know what you're gonna say: what Adrian did is not your fault. Fine, maybe not, but the fact is I could have stopped it easily. All I had to do was listen to him. I love him, and I couldn't even fucking do that. That means it is my fault as much as matters. Do you get it now, Eve? It's not just about last night. Last night was nothing more than the product of weeks of my mistakes. If not for me Ryan would never have been-

"God. Eve, I don't deserve your sympathy or pity. I had a paw in all of this. I need to do better, to be better, not to be told I'm good enough already. I can't stay in this hugbox. I want to- I don't know, I-"

"You want to be punished. Is that it?"

I lose all my momentum, my body goes slack. I'm still and quiet.

"It's what I deserve."

"Fine," she says, folding her arms. "If you want me to tell you how it is, with no filter, I will."

"That's exactly what I want."

"Okay," she says. Her body tenses, her paws ball into fists. All her discontent is channeled at once and transformed into words. "You're right. You've hurt people. You've let your friends down. You've failed yourself, and those closest to you. Personally I can tell you you've brought a hell of a lot of stress into my life recently, but that's nothing. Ryan was abused on your watch because you were too weak to stay sober and too weak to stop Marty when you weren't. Adrian could've died because you weren't there for him. You're a wreck. Your mental state is in shambles. You're self destructive and you're lashing out. Since the moment you met Ryan you've shown your worst side to the world. You have at times acted with utter naivety, total self-absorbed ignorance and bullish single mindedness. You've been oblivious and careless and that has led to the pain and suffering of others. The truth is, Kale, you've been kind of an asshole." Her words crash over me like a glorious waterfall. It's painful, it's frightening. It's exactly what I wanted. "And guess what?"

I exhale. Inhale. I say what I'm meant to say: "What?"

"For all of that," she says. "I still love you. I love the hell out of you. You're not a fucking monster Kale. You're not evil, you don't deserve punishment. You're a big, goofy, impulsive fuzzball who sometimes makes the wrong decision. You fuck up, yes, but there's nothing special about that. We all do. And you've been through hell. You deserve empathy, you deserve understanding and it's clear to me you need time to heal. Yes, you have hurt people, yes you should work on being a better version of yourself, but you don't need to be so damn hard on yourself. You're not a messiah or a saint, but there's so much good in you. For all you've said and done, the truth is you're one of the most empathetic people I've ever met. You care so much about me and Adrian and Ryan, that when you think about how much you could've hurt us it tears you up inside. When you stop and think, if you're in your right mind, I know you'll always do what you think is right for us. You try to help people, that's who you are, and you fail sometimes. So be it. You stayed with Marty yesterday because you didn't want him to kill himself. You only went over in the first place because you wanted to help Ryan out of a sticky situation. Don't fool yourself into believing you acted only out of self-interest all this time, it simply isn't true. Maybe you've been self-important Kale, but that's not all you've been. You care, deeply, about other people and you always have. That's the truth."

"But what if that's part of the problem?" I ask. "Did you ever think that maybe all this projected empathy is just a twisted form of narcissism? I've got this fucking savior complex and I do all this shit to satisfy it, to feel important and morally superior. That's all it fucking is, all it ever was."

"I don't believe that for a second." She shakes her head dismissively, my argument having no effect on her. "If you had ulterior motives in all this, they aren't all you had. I know you Kale. For the most part you're a good person with good intentions and I know that doesn't mean your mind can't get clouded, that doesn't mean idiocy can't overwrite empathy from time to time, but making mistakes doesn't make you a monster. And, Kale, you're not a monster. I love and care for you now as I always have. I am here for you in whatever way you need me to be. If you want to believe my support for you has always been about positivity over honesty, then okay, but that's not true. Ultimately I tell you what I really think Kale, I always have, so you can drop the arrogance. There is a right time and a wrong time to tell your friend they've been acting like an asshole, and I am not always going to know when the right time is - I am every bit as fallible as you - but I'm trying. I want what's best for you, I want to help you learn and grow and face your mistakes, and I want you to help me do the same. But, Jesus Kale, the morning after you were fucking used and manipulated by that vile man, and you bore witness to a goddamn rape, is not what I thought would be an ideal time. If I was wrong, so be it, but it's all out there now. So, please, give yourself a goddamn break - a day, at least - calm down, then we can work on this, together. How does that sound?"

Done speaking she collapses back against her chair, exhaling, exhausted. My mind's a mess of swirling thoughts and contradictory conclusions knotted up and so deeply entangled as to appear irrecoverable, all of which, I must reluctantly admit, lends credence to her suggestion that I need time.

Time.

It's something I've had so little of recently. My life has been non-stop drama for weeks now. I almost wish she wasn't right, but she is, at least in part. I need time. I need space. I need self-reflection and recuperation.

I nod. In this instant I still hate myself; I think I'm worse than she's making out, that I don't deserve her empathy, but I recognize my own limits. I could be wrong. I don't need to decide quite yet. I've been through a lot. I've put others through a lot. So much has changed so quickly; I should let things settle. Well, after finding a job, perhaps, but even that can wait a day.

"Okay," I say. "Okay. A day it is."

"At least," she says.

"At least," I confirm. I sigh and squirm and say what I know I should say. "And, Eve, thank you. I was unkind and you... You're too good to me."

"No, I'm not," she says. "You save me, I save you. That's the deal."

"But over and over again like this? Forever?"

"Over and over again," she says, smiling. "Forever. That's exactly how this works, and you know it."

I guess I do.

I wouldn't give up on her, so why should she give up on me? Still, I don't feel comfortable in my own fur. I am not the person I want to be. But I am me, and I am here, now. That is that. This is this. I better make do with it.

"Maybe," I say, my muzzle betraying me.

"Kale, she starts, then stops. She puts a paw on my shoulder and squeezes. I stare at her, lost and confused. "I'll admit, I never thought I'd see you like this. I've struggled with depression for most of my life, and for a long time I saw you as a beacon of unwavering light. I thought depression would never - could never - touch you. I was wrong. I'm not delivering a diagnosis here, I'm just admitting a failing of my own. And as someone who knows what it's like to hate yourself, I'm not going to lie and tell you this is going to be easy, but getting better is possible - feeling better is possible - and I'll be there for you every step of the way."

A dreadful understanding settles on me. The way I'm feeling right now, my self-directed rage and this overpowering sense of helplessness, is nothing new to Eve. She's felt like this for years and here I am, all bluster and rage, acting like my world is ending after dealing with it for not one full day.

It's undeniable to me that's she's one of strongest people I've ever met. The horrors her mind has forced her to endure every day for months, years, don't even bear thinking about, but she has fought through them all. That she is here, today, still breathing, still speaking, still believing, stands as testament to that.

"I'm so lucky to know you, Eve. You're stronger than I'll ever be."

She tilts her head and whips her tail.

"You know, I've thought the same thing about you many times."

"Well, now you know how wrong you were."

She shakes her head.

"No," she says. "I don't think so."

I don't know how to respond. So, I don't. I do know that I wish I was a better friend, and a better person, and that I want to hug her. So, I get to my feet and do the one thing I'm able to at such short notice.

She reacts quickly. We're in each other's arms in moments. She cries quietly into my shoulder as I sob into her neck, though I can't tell if I'm actually producing tears. I feel utterly drained, both physically and emotionally. We stand there for a while, pressed against one another, gripping tight as if holding on for dear life.

"Don't destroy yourself wolf boy," she mutters. "I need you."

"I won't," I say. "I'll be better for you, for Adrian, for everyone. I promise."

And then it's back to silence and sobbing. I love her so much, and she loves me. She's here for me now and always. I'll be there for her whenever, wherever. That's all there is to it. That's all there ever was, or needs to be.

Eventually we come apart, she wipes her eyes. We sit, I take her paws in mine and she smiles. I try to smile too.

"Thanks for opening up," she says. It's ludicrous.

"Come on Eve, I should thank you."

She doesn't respond. She doesn't need to. We've said it all already.

Quiet settles between us. At some point she pulls her paws from mine and checks her phone. She types something, then looks up.

"I should really go shower and get dressed."

"Oh, yeah, no problem. I'll go after, if that's alright."

"Of course," she nods and stands, then hesitates, freezing in place as if about to say something, but in the end she walks toward the hall without a word.

"Wait," I say. She stops. Twists. "There's something I haven't told you yet."

"Yeah?" She asks, quiet, uncertain, her voice tinged with low lying dread.

"A good thing, this time."

"Yeah?" Her tone shifts instantly. She's bright and hopeful and beaming. She comes back in and sits beside me, eager for gossip.

"I figured myself out, well, part of me at least." I say. She nods, waiting for me to go on. "Last night I told Adrian that I love him."

First nothing, then her eyes widen.

"Like...?"

"Like_love him_ love him. Yeah."

She exhales, her head falls back and she stares at the ceiling.

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

"What did he say?"

I can feel my muzzle curling into a grin, a remnant of my old self returning.

"Not much. Mostly he just moaned and grunted."

She snaps to attention.

"You devil. Are you serious?"

"Would I lie about that?"

She shifts her jaw and closes her eyes, inhaling.

"You literally fucked Adrian on my couch. I knew I should've installed a spy cam. God, watching that back on tape would've got me through another sexless month easy."

"You can take the thought for free."

"And details, all the details."

"Later," I say, suppressing a laugh. "But I'll let you know something else. We fucked again a few hours ago. I couldn't sleep, he suggested it and, as established, I'm a total himbo."

"You ravenous beast. God, you and Adrian, on my sofa bed, twice! I'll treasure those sheets forever, they're never getting washed." She exhales a ragged breath. "So, what? You're boyfriends?"

"That's right."

"This is the best thing that's ever happened to me!"

"Oh, come on."

"I mean it! You and Adrian, fuck, how didn't I see it? I really thought you didn't... I was so wrong. I should have seen it sooner."

I laugh, joyful, but whatever it is inside of me that would rather see all of my happiness wither and die rears its head. My laughter turns vacant, sour.

"Me too."

"You know, I was just thinking: how the hell did you end up in such a bad mood this morning after admitting your love for Adrian? But, no, I get it. Figuring out you loved him means getting tangled up with Ryan and Marty was all for nothing, you never even wanted them. I'm guessing you blame yourself for not seeing that sooner."

I nod.

It's not only that I didn't want them, the truth is they never wanted me either, but that's not worth bringing up right now. Eve is right, and I can't exactly look down on Ryan or Marty for stringing me along when I did the exact same thing to them.

"I love him Eve," I say. "But he's way too good for me."

"Maybe he is," she says, "but so what? Instead of stressing over it, count your blessings. He loves you, more than anything. That's clear to anyone who's seen the way he looks at you. You're lucky to have him, don't forget that, but if you love him as he loves you then the best thing you can do is embrace him with all you have. Don't second guess yourself."

"I want to," I say. "I love him. So fucking much. It's just... what if I'm not good enough? What if he realizes and leaves me? What if I decide he deserves better and push him away?"

"He wants you. He loves you. Instead of obsessing over not being good enough, do your best to improve. You have it in you, Kale. Don't doubt that."

I want to tell her there's more going on here, that I haven't recovered from almost witnessing his death, that sometimes when I see him he's covered in blood, dying or dead, and I enter panic mode, that the day he almost died has been playing on repeat in my mind ever since it happened. But what would the point be? More empathy, more encouragement? More of a mental load placed on her. No, it wouldn't be fair. Ultimately she's right: I can be better, all of my own accord. I can change. Dwelling only on my difficulties won't get me anywhere.

I settle into thought and our conversation peters out once again. We share another, shorter hug, and she leaves. I stay for another minute, utterly still, lost in my head.

Are the words we have spilled really enough? All these thoughts and feelings and desires. Everything Eve said and all that I said. Will my quest for change lead to real change? Or only to convincing myself that change has come without ever actually effecting it? Even if I do improve who's to say I won't revert to my old ways the moment it becomes convenient? I wish I had some sort of accountability, some firm consequence for failure to help keep me in line, but I don't. Ultimately, my fate is in my paws and my paws alone. I want to improve, so damn much. Not just for Adrian, but for Eve and Ryan and even myself. So... I'll try.

I'll try.

It's an idea, at least. An intent.

It's something.

It's more than I had before.

I hear footsteps and look up to find Adrian walking toward me. He's dressed only in his briefs, sporting a groggy smile and rubbing the back of his head. He's a little ragged and unkempt in this state. He's beautiful.

"Morning hon," he says, quiet and gentle. He pauses to kiss my nose as he walks past, then fixes himself a drink in the attached kitchen. My heart thumps and in an instant my head empties of all ill thought. His company works magic on me.

"It's still early," I say.

He returns to the dining room, drink in paw, grinning. "And yet I feel energized."

A quiet growl emanates from the back of his throat. Instantly I want to be all over him, to have my teeth and tongue on his neck, my paws running down his back, grabbing his butt. A heat finds its way to my groin. God, am I really so insatiable? Or is this just what he does to me?

It feels good to love, to not hold back. I'm angry at myself for taking so long to come to terms with the truth, but I'm more than glad I'm finally here.

He sits beside me, in the same spot Eve had sat only minutes prior. I can't help myself; I run a paw over his belly and chest feeling his contours, taking in his warmth. He says nothing, merely letting me do as I please.

"You're one sexy fox, Adrian."

"And here I was thinking I'm too slender to suit your tastes Kalie."

I reach out and grab his modest love handles, he yelps and giggles and pushes me back. I smirk.

"Seems I love all kinds after all. And seems you aren't exactly stick thin either." He shoots me a sly grin then hides it with a sip of his a drink. "Oh and, foxy, shouldn't you be calling me master?"

His ears perk and his head dips. He wags his tail and his eyes dart up to find mine.

"You liked that, huh?"

"I liked it all," I say, my head nearing his. His muzzle lifts then tilts.

We kiss. As if it's nothing. As if it's as natural as breathing. I've longed for this, for a long time, I just didn't know it.

As we pull apart he sighs contentedly and shoots me a sloppy smile, then goes back to working at his drink. I stare at him as he does so, grinning, tail wagging slow and steady. Knowing that I am his and he is mine makes all the bad things that have happened and all the mistakes I have made seem unimportant by comparison. Life can be good. In many ways it is right now.

"So," he starts, shifting in his seat, his ears partway lowered. "You still happy with all this?"

"Uh, with what?"

"Well," he sighs, not so contentedly this time. "With me, with us. It's just that the last time we tried this you dumped me the next morning, I know things are different this time, I just... I woke up without you next to me and it all came back to me in a flurry. I guess what I'm trying to say is: I'm anxious."

"You don't need to be Adrian. I meant what I said last night, every word of it. I love you."

"You're absolutely certain?" He can still barely believe this is real. He waited so long for this. I made him wait so long. If I had been better I-

I will be better. I will be.

"I'm certain Adrian. You're my boyfriend. This is real."

He shakes his head.

"I'm gonna wake up any second aren't I?" He sees my twisted expression and laughs. "Come on I'm not serious, well, not entirely. I just, I- I mean, you were high last night and I'm not sure if you were in your right mind. I just- I just wanted to be sure."

"Adrian, it's okay, you don't need to justify a thing to me. I get it. Now, let me say it again: I love you and I want to be with you. I'm more sure of that than pretty much anything. As long as you're sure you want to be with me, then there's-"

"Really, Kalie? I want this. I want you. Don't doubt that, ever. I love you. I... You know, since the last time we tried this, and you rejected me, I tried to stop. I wished I could fall out of love with you, I did all I could to let go, but I just couldn't. I never have."

His outpouring of emotion and love leaves me cold, not at all because I don't appreciate it, but because in spite of Eve's guidance I can't help but feel I don't deserve it.

"Even after everything?" I ask. "I've fucked up Adrian, badly. Over and over again. I've been an asshole."

"I know," he says, grinning. "You have. You can be a total dick. You don't always think things through, you lash out at people you care about and last night you got high with a suicidal psychopath. Don't think I forgot about that. That was real dumb. Honestly, you're a bit of a mess Kalie."

I wait for more. None comes.

"But?" I prompt.

"But nothing. It's all true. It's okay though, I'm a mess too. Exhibit A." He show off the stitches that scatter his underarm. "I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that nobody's perfect. I mean, I'm not even convinced anyone is truly good. But you try, Kalie, and that's what matters. Plus, you're hot and you fuck good."

"Such a silver tongue," I tease.

The thought occurs that being surrounded by people who love and care for me can, at times, be a double edged sword - they're more likely to forgive than hold me to account - but acting like the love they show me is some kind of nuisance is absurd. I love both Eve and Adrian just as they love me, and that is the greatest joy in my life, not close.

Not that there's much joy in the rest of my life right now. I'm jobless and anxious and I just lived through the worst day of my life. Marty... Last night he... God. I'm not ready to have that conversation with myself, let alone with Adrian.

I go quiet and space out. Adrian taps my leg with his foot.

"What's on your mind, hon?" He asks, voice soft and low. He's doing what Eve did: looking out for me, empathizing. Part of me hates it. Another part is so incredibly grateful.

"A lot," I say. A frown sprouts on his muzzle. "But being here, with you, helps." I take his paw in mine. "I'm so sorry that it took me this long to... to accept how I feel. To stop fighting the truth. I love you, Adrian."

He nods and screws his eyes shut. This is a lot for him. He sniffs, narrowly avoiding tears, and squeezes my paw.

"I still feel like I'm gonna wake up any second," he says.

"You're awake," I assure him. He nods again, but doesn't say anything. "Thank you, by the way," I add. "For coming back last night. For saving me. And Ryan."

He tilts his head, surprised. "Come on, Kalie, of course I came back. I had to."

"You didn't have to. If I was better at decision making none of those awful things would have happened."

"Maybe," he says. "Don't beat your-"

"Myself up? I know, I know. I just had this conversation with Eve, I... There's no point repeating it. Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure, Kalie. Is there anything in particular on your mind?"

"Well, I was wondering how you and Eve even get into Marty's apartment yesterday."

"The same way you got into mine when I was bleeding out."

"Oh."

I think back on that day and...

I was in panic mode, scrambling for a solution. I waited for someone to leave the building so I could catch the door and get inside. I rushed to his apartment. I didn't have a key. I racked my brain, figured it out, found the key. Went inside. His room's door was closed. I approached and opened it. Inside he-

"Except it was even easier since the door to Marty's place wasn't locked. I was counting on that, seeing as it wasn't locked when I left. If it had been since, then god knows what we would've done. Knocked? Kicked the door down? I don't know. Honestly, I don't want to think about that."

"Yeah," I say, but I'm not fully following the conversation. Inside my head I'm stuck in a loop.

I open the door to his room. He's bleeding out. Dying. Dead. I open the-

"You okay, Kalie?" Adrian asks, his paw on my knee. He's looking right at me. I look right back at him and his stare snaps me out of my-

The cut on his muzzle... I can't not look.

Then I'm right back in.

Violent flashbacks and disturbing fantasy intertwining.

I manage to wrench my gaze away, but I catch a glimpse of his underarm and all those stitched up cuts and oh god it's happening all over again.

My breathing becomes short and rapid. I close my eyes and try to calm myself, but fail, finding only more horrors in the dark.

Will I ever escape this?

Reliving these moments is agony. To look at the person I love and be prompted to feel such pain and fear and panic...

It's hell.

I lose control and burst into tears.

"Kalie? Oh god, Kalie."

Adrian wraps his arms around me, holds me tight. I love him so much.

I should be happy. Why am I not happy?

This should be easy. Things used to be easy.

Now I'm here with the love of my life and things are far harder than they've ever been. Life is a twisted joke.

There I am, back in time, in his apartment. Panicked. I open the door to his room. I see him lying there. He's not moving- I'm-

"Adrian," I say, the word an explosion of emotion. I wrap my arms around him and hold tight. He's warm, alive, living, breathing. "Adrian."

"Yes, Kalie?"

"Don't hurt yourself ever again. Please, Adrian. Never again."

There was so much blood.

His embrace tightens.

"Never again." He says, strained. "I promise." This hurts. "I don't want you to be scared, I don't want you to think what happened could ever happen again. You're not going to come home to find..." A sharp intake of breath. "To find me like that. It won't happen. Not ever. I won't let it. I promise."

We stay like that, wrapped in one another, for a while, lost in our own heads and finding home in each other's arms. I let my tears run their course and dry my eyes on his fur.

"I'm sorry," I say, disentangling myself from him. "I guess I'm pretty emotional at the moment."

"It's no problem," he replies, quiet. "I understand. You don't need to apologize. A whole lot has happened."

"Yeah." I squeeze his paw and catch his eyes. "Not all of it bad." I smile and say: "I love you, Adrian."

He tells me he loves me too, but he's not smiling. His eyes lose focus and he exhales.

"You okay, Adrian?"

"Yeah," he says. "I'm alright. I'm just... I don't know why but, with everything that's happened it all just flooded back to me... I was... I was thinking about Marcus."

God, of course he was. When he told me about what happened to Marcus I felt sad, and I expressed my sympathies, but for me that was the end of it. For Adrian it was so much more.

I've been self-centered and blind and, yes, I've been surrounded by drama, which has been distracting to say the least, but that's no excuse. There is so much more going on than what's in my head. A close friend of Adrian's died only a week ago. Marcus was young, with a full life left to live. What happened was a tragedy, the weight of which isn't going to lift from Adrian's shoulders any time soon.

I want to cheer him up, but I don't think there's anything I can say to make this better. Marcus is dead, I can't bring him back.

I tell him I understand and keep my paw clasped firmly over his. It's all I can do. His tail wags slow, expressing subdued appreciation.

In time he settles, the tension leaks from his muscles. He sniffs and finds the fortitude to look me in the eyes again.

"You know, part of me thinks I should be furious with you," he says. My tail flicks nervously. "Oh, this has nothing to do with Marcus. I just got into a dark headspace and all sorts of things started swirling through my mind. I'm not upset with you, for the record, I just sorta feel like maybe I should be."

"I, well," I stumble on my words. What is there to say? He's right. He should be mad at me. "I can't blame you."

"At least you're self aware," he says. "God, I haven't been able to think straight since the two of us arrived at Marty's. I want to be pissed that you let him manipulate you, that you got high with him but, I don't know. How can I be? I broke into his apartment and almost blew his fucking face off. That scares me. He does too, I mean he fucking raped Ryan. I don't know what would've happened if you and Eve didn't stop him after he hit me. Maybe he would have mauled me to death with the butt of his gun. It's all so fucked up I don't even know where to start."

"Yeah," I say. "I know exactly what you mean."

"My mind's a mess. I know this will sound like it's straight out of a cheesy romance flick, but all that makes sense to me right now is you. Getting angry can't be worth the effort."

"Maybe not, but don't let me off the hook. I haven't always been good to you. I haven't been that good in general recently."

"Join the club," my fox says. It's abrupt and disarming, but I don't have time to react. He stands and stretches, showing off his chest in the process. "Come on, we should go get ready for the day."

"Sure," I say, standing. "But I think Eve's in the shower right n-"

There's a knock at the front door.

Both of us freeze.

My heart thumps and my head aches.

We turn, then pace down the hall in unison.

"I don't think we're expecting visitors," Adrian observes.

In a flurry of footsteps Ryan appears, darting down the stairs. He's in the same tee and shorts as earlier.

"Who the hell's at the door?" He asks, his speech hurried and urgent. He's upset and scared.

"I don't know," I say, plainly.

The three of us approach the door together, cautious.

It comes again.

Knock, knock, knock.

I can faintly hear the sound of the shower still running above us. Eve is not available.

"What should we do?" Ryan asks.

"We could ignore it," Adrian suggests.

"It's probably just a delivery, or marketing, or something," I say.

"Yeah," Adrian says, nodding. "I mean, it's not like Marty even knows where we are."

"Yeah, and he has no reason to think we're at Eve's. He doesn't even know where she lives," Ryan says, talking more to himself than either of us.

"That's assuming he's even coming after us in the first place," I add.

"Yeah, there's no need to be paranoid about this," Adrian states, following his words up with a nervous laugh that instantly undercuts his assertion.

"You're right," says Ryan.

"So," I say. "I guess it would be rude not to see who it is."

The door answers.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

They're persistent, whoever they are.

Urgent delivery, perhaps.

"Should I answer then?" Adrian asks.

"Sure," Ryan says.

The fox takes a single step toward the door then hesitates.

Ryan does the exact same thing.

"Are we...?" He says.

"We're losing it," Adrian confirms.

More nervous laughter.

It's illogical, it's stupid, but none of us want to open that door.

And we all want to know who's behind it.

"Look, I'm just gonna go for it." Adrian says.

He doesn't actually move.

None of us do.

Fuck it.

"I'll do it," I say.

Before I have a chance to second guess myself, I step forward and open the door.