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Your shots echo around the bay. The range is strangely quiet otherwise, nearly empty. It's mid-afternoon on a Friday; there should be more people here.

It's as though the world shares your feeling of apprehension, right down to the gray clouds above. You load the Tokarev again, the box of ammo haphazard on the bench. You considered bringing everything again. This will be the last time you'll have any of it, after all. Couldn't do it tomorrow since you still have the rest of your mini-museum to take care of. The assortment of old-world items deserve just as much care as your guns.

You rack the slide; the heavy chunk of the handgun is almost forlorn. You let out a breath and stare downrange. The 200-yard steel is smaller than your sightpost, but you try anyway. If you can hit the 100, you can hit 200.

It'll just take a few dozen mags.

"You know there's closer target stands, right?"

You sigh, letting the last bullet fly. The steel remains silent as you turn to the she-wolf. "Talia."

"Anon," she replies. "What are you doing?"

"Shooting,"

"Bullshit. You're throwing bullets away."

"I hit the 100 earlier," you say, loading the mag. "I'll hit the 200 eventually."

The she-wolf grabs your shoulder and spins you around, looking down hard as she asks, "Anon, what did you do?"

You swallow.

"I forced her to be with me so I could --"

"Not that," Talia growls. "What's got you doing this? Sitting here, wasting ammo?"

Her amber eyes flicker between yours. They stay firm as her words soften: "what did you say?"

You agonized over what to say all last night. Only this morning did you realize you wouldn't ever be satisfied with your text. The situation is shit, not your words.

"I told her I didn't want her in the courtroom," you say.

"And what did she say?"

"Nothing."

Talia's eyes are piercing, but it's not a lie. The tigress hasn't sent you anything because you blocked her; Talia doesn't need to know. The she-wolf huffs, letting you go.

"So you told her to stay out of the courtroom and nothing else?"

"More or less," you reply.

Talia growls when you go back to loading the mag.

"You wanna talk about it, or are you just gonna keep me out?"

You want to. You want to tell her how you're hollow inside, that you're sorry. How you're shooting your collection away for the hell of it, and how you're going to spend tomorrow giving it away so the State doesn't melt it down. But that'd mean telling her you're 'breaking up' with her to take the heat; real relationship or not, she wouldn't let it fly.

And after last night, you're thinking it was more 'real' than you'd thought.

So you stay quiet, slide the magazine in. Try and ignore her as you line up your sights. The she-wolf stays right behind you, glaring. You flinch at the Tokarev's kick; you wish you could block her too. Disappear so it won't hurt as much on Sunday. You've already caused her enough pain, just like Reb.

"Right."

You glance over at the she-wolf, finding your binoculars in her hands.

"You shot right, dumbass."

You grunt; spotting with a pistol won't do shit. You know exactly what she's trying to do, and you're not going to let it work. You're not going to go back to that day in the fall when you started 'dating.'

"Left," she says when your next shot rings out.

You think about what you sent Rebecca. The words come easy, burned in your head.

'Rebecca,

I'm sorry I don't have the courage to call.

I care about you a lot. You've made this week wonderful.

But I don't want to hurt you and I don't want to push you.

I'm sorry for what I put you through, and for what it's worth, I don't want to block you after I send this.

But I'm going to.

If it's better for you that we don't try anything, that we don't talk, and that you don't come to the trial, then that's what I want.

Because I care about you.'

"Anon, you're empty."

You blink, and the Tokarev clicks. It blends in with the soft sound of rain on the shelter's tin roof. But that's not why you wipe your eyes. You drop the magazine and set the pistol down; Talia groans when you start loading it again.

"Anon, quit being a dumbass," she says. "Tell me. Let me help!"

"You can't," you mumble. "We should just focus on the trial."

"Fuck the trial!" she yells. She slaps the magazine out of your hand and grabs you again, spilling 7.62 all over the bench. "I want to see you happy!"

"I can't be!"

Your shout echoes around the bay. Talia's ears pull back, and she doesn't resist when you shove her away.

"I can't," you say, controlling your voice. "I either put Rebecca through more pain or I do it without her. Neither one makes me happy, Talia. At least this way she won't suffer more."

You turn back to the bench when she says nothing; the Tokarev rounds are everywhere. You crouch down and gather the cartridges one by one, wiping them off.

"It's not your fault, Talia," you say after a moment. "I'm the one that started it. I'm the one who had the gun."

The rain begins droning harder as you stand; you don't plan on leaving. Talia is quiet when you start loading again, but her presence is insistent, encroaching. You tap the full magazine with a sigh.

"Don't worry about me," you say, turning slowly, "I'll be fi --"

The magazine falls to the ground.

Rebecca fills the shelter behind you, red, blue, and orange filling your vision. She pins you with her green eyes, her ears pulled back.

"I thought I'd find you here," she says. Her voice is soft, trying to hide a ragged edge. "I -- I wanted to apologize."

"Rebecca, I --"

"No," she says, a little tremor coming through. "I could've hurt you. Bad." Her ears flatten as she pauses with a little sound in her throat. "...I-I didn't, did I?"

"A little," you manage. "But I'll be alright."

The tigress' chest freezes for a moment. She glances over you as her tail twitches, her hands tight to her stomach.

"Rebecca, you shouldn't be here," you say. "I meant what I said. If --"

A low, thunderous rumble stops you. You haven't heard her do that since the yeens caused problems earlier in the week. Her chest falls after a moment, as does her tail.

"I-I'm glad, you're okay," she finally says. "I wanted to make it up to you, Anon. I'll make dinner."

Dinner brings Wednesday's events to mind. Guilt washes over you like rain, but you don't let it show. You know she's not going to take 'no' for an answer; the text didn't deter her, after all. You hesitate, trying to put on a good, believable face.

"Sure," you say, picking up the Tokarev magazine. It's barely 4pm; you can come up with some way to give her the slip before. Rebecca closes her eyes with a sigh.

"Good," she says. She relaxes for a moment, and you think you're in the clear -- but then she opens her eyes.

"Talia, could you take care of Anon's things?" she asks, looming over you with determined eyes. You freeze when she picks you up and hugs you to her chest. You hear Talia whine as Rebecca turns to her, probably as flustered as you are.

"Yeah," the she-wolf says, her voice shaky. "Yeah, I'll deal with it."

Rebecca doesn't reply. She sets off with you tight in her arms, surrounding you in soft fabric. You're not sure if the rocking is on purpose as she carries you through the growing rain. The warm summer shower wakes you from your stupor, and you try to pull yourself free.

"Rebecca, please," you manage; the vibrations of her growl run through you. She winces as you stiffen in her arms, but she doesn't let you go.

"Please don't move," she says.

You feel her chest rise and fall, much faster than yesterday morning. What the hell is she doing?

You feel yourself squish into her, the red sweater soft against your skin. What the hell are you going to do?

You hear Sally say something in her drawl, and Rebecca responds with a grunt.

...How are you going to say 'no'?

“I thought we were doing dinner later?" you ask as the ground turns to parking-lot gravel.

“We're doing it now."

A car door opens; you expect to be set down or shoved inside. But the tigress doesn't let you leave her now-damp embrace. You're made to sit on her lap, legs stretched to the limit straddling her thighs. One arm stays around you even as she starts the car, holding you close. She doesn't look down when you pull back enough to speak.

"Rebecca, please --" her grip tightens -- "let me turn around."

She sighs; her chest deflates beneath you. But her embrace loosens, just enough for you to turn around in her lap. You try to ignore the way you sink even deeper into her. You try to ignore the thigh fur on your bare legs, the plush curves acting as your backrest, and the arm holding you more firm than the oversized seatbelt. The whole car is oversized; you feel like a child when you peer out the windows into the gray.

But you doubt safety is why Rebecca's got you here.

"I'm sorry," you say. The tigress huffs above you, but lets you go on.

"I shouldn't have been so forward. I should've just let you be a witness, I shouldn't have pried."

"The only thing you have to apologize for is blocking me."

You look up in surprise, but her chest is still in the way. Regardless, her voice tells you she's serious.

"I blocked you because I didn't want to hurt you anymore," you say. "How'd you even know I'd be at the range?"

The tigress rumbles, squeezing you.

"Because I know you, Anon."

She grabs one of your hands, engulfing it in her paw.

"I know that you're kind, that you're caring, and that you would never mean to hurt me. I wouldn't have asked to shoot with you Tuesday otherwise."

She jolts when your other hand drifts to hers.

"Y-yesterday, I -- I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure that I could do it. I wasn't lying when I said I wanted you, Anon. But I thought about it, and --"

"No, Rebecca, no."

Her paw stiffens in your grasp.

"I don't want to push you. I don't want you to do that for me. I --"

"Anon, I want to."

The edge in her voice makes you quiet down. Not from fear, but something else.

"Those dreams I had -- of being a mother, of having a family -- they never went away. That's -- that's why it all hurt even worse. I was worried it'd never stop. But when I met you, I felt hope."

She sniffles, squeezing your hand and squeezing you close.

"It -- it felt stupid, since you were with Talia, but I held onto it. Because I knew if there was anyone that I'd even remotely trust like that again, it was you. Even yesterday, I felt that way. It was me I was worried about, Anon. I didn't think I'd be able to bear it for you."

A seizing breath wracks her. It doesn't seem as bad as before.

"But when you sent me that text, I realized I should at least try."

"Rebecca --"

"No!"

You're pressed deep into her curves, an arm braced over your chest.

"Let me, Anon!" she says. "I saw you at the range, I know you hurt! I know you did it for me Anon, now let me do this for you!"

She swallows, her hand again finding yours and squeezing hard.

"Let me hurt for you."

You shudder at her rumble. It hits you in the heart, just like her words. You stroke her arm with your free hand, wondering if the fur beneath her sweater is just as soft.

"Rebecca, that's not what this is," you say, gentle as your hands. "I don't want you hurting for me."

"Then why did you block me?"

"Because I didn't want to hurt you."

"And did you ever think that disappearing might hurt worse?"

"I --"

You sigh.

"I care about you, Rebecca," you say. If you really think this will help, I -- I'll try it."

"Good," she huffs. Her arm falls to your waist, her embrace loosening. "I was worried you'd need more... convincing."

You chuckle despite yourself. Rebecca looks down, letting out a small noise of surprise.

"The physical kind?" you ask.

The tigress' arm tightens around your waist as she looks away, claws kneading at her sweater. You don't need words to know her answer; you don't know how it makes you feel.

But you know her curves against you feel good, and her arm around you feels right.

You stay quiet the rest of the ride, letting yourself relax into Rebecca. You're drowsy when you arrive at her place, the combination of the warmth, softness, and security of her arms sapping your will. The gentle drone of the rain disappearing is your only cue. She shushes you when you try getting up, turning you sideways in her ample lap and cradles you close. Her arm glides along your back and strokes your neck. Though your face is pressed into the side of a breast, you feel her lean down and put her nose in your hair. A sleepy groan escapes you; she chuffs and rubs a cheek against you. It's all more overwhelming than you could ever hope for.

The illusion is broken when your hand drifts to her breast. Rebecca stiffens with a gasp, and her claws poke into your leg. It's not as severe as last time, but you still yelp and try to spill from her arms. She lets you this time -- or tries to, anyway. There's nowhere for you to go but her lap. The two of you stare at each other for a breath before you sigh.

"No, Rebecca. See? It won't --"

Her claws aren't out when she grabs you again. You still wince as your legs are forced around her waist, but you don't think she heard you; she's got your face deep in her sweater. You can feel her chest heave around you, and her words echo in your head when she speaks.

"I want to get better, Anon," she says. You tilt your face up from her cleavage and find her looking down at you. The fur around her eyes is damp and her ears are turned back.

"Will you help me?" she asks.

"How?"

"Please, Anon."

"I --"

You pause. Her expression is pained, but her eyes still shine bright.

"...yes," you sigh. She pulls your face back into the deep red valley, holding you tight.

"Thank you," she whispers.

It's a few moments before she opens the door and carries you out. Only when you're back in her living room does Rebecca let you go, depositing you on the couch. She steps back and looks down at you; her stance is small and her tail is tight to her leg, her hands clasped over her stomach. But her eyes are still determined.

"Well... what am I supposed to do, Rebecca?"

"What you want," she says. She takes a breath, steeling herself. "Touch me."

"I -- I don't think that's going to work..."

"Do it, Anon. I need to get over it."

There's a tremor in her voice; whether it's from sorrow or anger, you're not sure. You hop down anyway and look up at her. Even when she's trying to shrink down, she's huge. Her fur puffs a little and her tail twitches when you poke her thigh... but she doesn't jump.

"Do it again," she says.

You poke at her leg some more, but the tigress' body remains still.

"I don't think this is helping, Rebecca," you sigh. "It's not setting you off."

"Yeah... grab my butt."

You splutter. "How would that help?"

"It's... sensitive," she says. Her ears fold back as she looks away. "That's what happened in the car, I think. When you touched my chest."

You sigh in your throat.

"Rebecca, I don't --"

The tigress' tail nearly flicks your face as she turns around.

"Touch my butt, Anon," she says, curling her tail away from her derriere, "or I'll sit on you."

"You say that like it's a bad thing..." you mutter, eyeing her rear. The tight daisy-dukes practically fill your vision.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," you hastily reply. You press your hands against her curves before she can reply; she jolts, her tail again buzzing your face. The tigress may have made a small sound, but the immense softness beneath the denim distracts you.

"Well?" you ask, resisting the urge to knead.

"I -- I don't know..."

"If it's not helping, I don't want to --"

"Surprise me!" she says. "I was ready for that, but every time before --"

You slap her ass because she wanted you to, certainly not because you've been dying to do it. The sound it makes is nearly as glorious as the way it jiggles. There's little time to admire it before the tigress whirls around, fur on end and tail straight out. Her claws gleam in the rainy half-light, and the black and white stripes on her face highlight her shock.

"A-Anon..." she breathes as her expression turns to anger. You backpedal into the couch

"You said 'Surprise me'!" you say; Rebecca's expression doesn't change as she looms over you. "I did what you asked! That was surprising, wasn't it?"

The tigress leans down, eyes narrow and frown small. It'd be cute if you weren't fearful for your life. Her arms box you in as she goes down to a knee, pressing her face close to yours.

"A-are you gonna kill me?" you ask. Her green eyes flicker between yours before she responds, her body going slack.

"No," she sighs. She pulls you into a half-hug, her chin over your shoulder. "Sorry, Anon. I -- I guess I thought it'd be easier than it is."

You feel little vibrations in her throat, silent sniffles. The weight of the situation settles on you as the tigress leans into you. She only jumps a little when you hug her back.

"It's okay, Rebecca," you say. "We're still figuring it out. Did it help a little, at least?"

Her arm tightens around you before she replies "yes."

"Good. But I think you'll get tired of me smacking your ass, even if I won't."

She chuckles, sounding a little more firm.

"How about we try something a little less 'surprising'? Something more casual?"

"Okay," she says. Before you can offer a suggestion, she gets down on her other knee and hugs you tight, enveloping you in her warmth. You stroke her sweater, wishing it were her fur. As she pulls back, Rebecca presses something like a kiss to your cheek. It stuns you for a second, and she giggles.

"Surprised you, did I?" she asks, standing up.

"Y-yeah," you say.

"How about we have dinner? I did promise it, after all," she says, smirking. "I'm sure there'll be plenty of opportunities for you to... 'casually' smack my ass while we work."

Her smile gives you hope. Not that you'll get another chance with her rear, but that she's getting better. You give her one back and follow her to the kitchen.

Making and eating dinner blur together. It's pleasant as the two of you talk about ordinary things like books, gardening, and her house. Only occasionally does the goal of your little date rear its head, like when she snaps a few pieces of angel-hair. But she's comfortable, and that's good enough for you -- the tigress actually tells you to be more touchy a few times.

Only when the plates are empty do you realize you don't know where things go from here.

"So... what now?" you ask as the conversation stalls. Rebecca's ears slowly prick, and her fingers flex on the table.

"G-go and wait on the couch. I'll be right with you after I finish this."

You're a little hesitant, but leave her to clearing the table. She doesn't want to hear anything of you helping, since you're 'too small.' Considering you helped set everything, you doubt it's really the case. Something makes you nervous as you sit on the couch. Things between the two of you have gone well so far, minus the bumpy start. You don't want things to go south, be it from Rebecca moving too fast or you fucking it up again.

She appears in front of you almost silently, the only thing giving her away a nervous 'mrp'.

"Rebecca."

"Anon," she replies. She takes a breath to steady herself, but you're not sure it works. "I -- I think I'm ready for the next step."

"What would that be?" you ask. You crane your neck back as she steps closer and leans down. You feel small when her paw rests on your shoulder.

"I'm used to the casual touches now," she says, "so I think something more... intimate."

"I-intimate how?"

She answers by pushing you down. Her striped face stays close to yours the whole way; her eyes mesmerize you, almost enough that you don't feel her lay on top of you. She hastily pulls back when you let out a quiet groan.

"Anon! Did I --"

"No, no," you say, grabbing her shoulders. "I-it's fine, I just..."

Your words devolve into a hum of pleasure. The tigress manages a smile, and slowly drops down. Her chest presses against your entire torso, her weight warm and comforting. She jumps a little when your hands slide up into her neck fluff, but she leans into them with a heavy chuff.

"This -- intimate enough?" you ask. Her eyes are half-lidded when they open in response. She slips down further, her nose inches from yours.

"I was thinking a little bit more..." she whispers. "If you're okay with it."

You wrap your arms around her head and thread your hands in her mane; it's the first time you feel like you've really hugged her right.

"There's nothing I want more."

Rebecca purrs before closing in. You're peeking over her snout when the two of you meet, lips tentative as her whiskers tickle your cheeks. You both freeze, breathing gently against each other and waiting for the next move.

"You okay?" you say into her lips.

"Mhm," the tigress hums, wrapping her paws around your head. "Let's go deeper."

You're not given a chance to argue; she cocks your head and presses in hungrily, her teeth scraping your lips. Your hands tighten in her hair when she pulls your tongue in. Her pleasured rumbling overshadows your muffled moans, making you melt into her even easier. It all feels so right. Her hands on your head, her teeth on your cheeks. She even tastes good.

Parting is painful, and not just because she scrapes your tongue between her teeth.

"You want more?" she asks, smiling as you grip her cheek-fur.

"Yeah... Give me your tongue this time!"

"You sure?" she purrs. "It's big..."

She chuckles when you nod eagerly. It's bliss when she presses her lips to yours once more; then the tigress' tongue fills your mouth. There's a glimmer in her green eyes as you gasp around it, one you haven't seen before. You're not going to be sucking on her tongue, scraping her with your teeth like she did to yours. She's gonna lick your mouth raw.

Your breaths are gasping as Rebecca explores you, her soft, pleasured sounds sending shivers down your spine. Your whole body jerks beneath hers with every prod and poke. You grip her fur tighter and tighter as she presses deeper and deeper, the rumble in her throat growing louder. Her taste stains your mouth, but you still can't get enough.

It only ends when you finally choke, her rough tongue tickling your throat. The tigress pulls back, stroking your cheek as you cough.

"Told you..." she purrs. You look up with a gasp; her stripes and green eyes mesmerize you once more, distracting you when she leans in again. The warm puff of a chuff is your only warning. She licks your face, her broad tongue offering no escape. You cringe as it scrapes along like a grinding wheel, so at odds with the rest of her. She offers a soft coo, pecking your cheek before rubbing hers along your face. Even the thin fur there is soft, enhanced by your tender skin.

"Are you okay?" she asks, purring when you nod against her.

"Are -- you?" you ask.

"Very," she whispers in your ear; she chuckles at your shudder. "How about we... take this to the bedroom?"

"Yes..."

You barely recognize when she stands up. Rebecca makes up your whole world. All you can see is her fur, all you can feel is her embrace, her breaths, and her teasing lips. You can still taste them, too. Her scent permeates her fur, flowers, herbs, and earth. And her purring fills your head.

Only when it all stops do you realize where she's taken you. You turn a little in her arms; her bedroom hardly seems large enough.

"Rebecca... is this too much?"

Her voice is tiny again when she responds, her breaths shallow.

"It -- it's not even the -- the same room," she breathes. She swallows, looking down at you.

"We don't have to --"

"I do."

She throws you onto the bed with ease. You scramble onto your back, expecting her to pounce atop you, but the titanic tiger has hardly moved. Her fists clench and eyes squeeze shut for a moment before she looks at you. There's fear, desperation, anxiety.

But there's undeniable passion as well.

The tigress strips off her sweater and jean-shorts, letting you gaze upon her orange and white glory. Her curves are endless, her fur immaculate. Even in the half-light from the windows she looks gorgeous. The breast-binder she wears is the same as yesterday, the color just off from her gray panties. They seem tiny in the sea of white fur around them, her thighs and belly almost swallowing them whole. Ogling her feels as bad as it did yesterday; her heaving breaths give you an excuse to look up. The fire is still there, as is the fear.

"What now, Rebecca?" you whisper. She swallows, looming over you as she approaches. Even if she's trying to be small.

Her hands drop heavily on either side of you as she says "Undo me."

Gently, tentatively, timidly, you reach up for her. She sucks in a breath when your hands brush her sides, the orange fur thick and soft. The flesh beneath is tense, and her chest heaves inches in front of your face. It freezes when you begin rubbing her.

"Which first?" you ask.

"P-panties..."

"Come a little closer, then."

Rebecca takes a breath before pulling you to the edge of the bed, putting your face into the soft fluff just below her breasts. Your legs are trapped between her thighs; she's determined, that's for sure. You still hesitate, having to steel yourself. If she's willing to try, you have to oblige.

The tigress' tremors touch you everywhere as you begin. Hopefully with time, they'll come from something other than fear. You sigh into her as your hands slowly drop along her sides. As you explore the curve of her hips, you truly feel the size of her. Your hands don't even fit halfway around her when you finally find the lace of her panties, almost lost in her fur and padding. Rebecca jolts when your thumbs hook around them.

"It's okay," you say, but her embrace muffles it to almost nothing.

The paw on your head tells you she heard it anyway.

You slide her underwear down her motherly hips, feeling the fabric stretch as you pass her soft apex. When it finally falls free, you stroke her thighs and hum into her lower chest. Your heart soars when she returns the sound after a moment. Her rumble soft and tentative, but it's positive nonetheless. Your legs are cold when she steps back to kick the panties all the way off; her embrace never slips.

It tightens when she pushes you further back on the bed and mounts you.

You're the one to tense as her enormous thighs engulf you. Her weight on your lap is heavy and firm, immobilizing but not crushing. You're still overwhelmed enough that Rebecca has to grab your hands before you hear her speak.

"Anon," she says, guiding your hands to her binder, "do my bra now."

You feel her stiffen and hiss when your fingers slip beneath it, but there's a tinge of pleasure to it now. You know you're going to enjoy it too, with how big that bump on her sweater is. You'd enjoy it more if you could get the thing off -- Christ, it's tight. Tugging hardly moves it, no matter where along it you lift.

"Anon?"

"M'm mm-mm!"

Rebecca takes your hands with a grunt, fumbling with the hem and --

You splutter as her heavy breasts drop around your head with a thunderclap, submerging you in warm and musky fur. The titanic-titted tigress yelps when you try to surface, pawing at her to little effect. Rebecca pulls her jugs aside and smiles down at you -- the yelp was a happy one, you think.

"A bit big for you?"

"I --"

You can't finish, roaming her expansive boobs. Christ, you can't even hold one with your entire arm!

"They're so heavy!" is all you can manage.

"Too heavy?" she asks, chuckling when you shake your head. She lets them drop back around you with a soft "good."

The tigress purrs at your muffled sounds of pleasure, the vibrations hitting deep in your chest. You nuzzle into her and squeeze her heavy pillows, marveling at their size. Your hands sink in as you struggle to move them, like two soft clouds. Her fur lets you breathe despite being squeezed; every breath is hot and scented, filling your head just as much as your lungs.

Somewhere in all the pleasure, you recognize Rebecca's still purring. Her paws haven't left your back -- she's settled more firmly on your lap, where the heat between her thighs has reached a fever pitch. It all makes you even more happy. Getting the chance to explore her body was good enough; the fact she's enjoying it is even better.

Rebecca purrs for a long time; the silence when it stops is deafening. She sighs, and the squeeze of her chest makes you freeze. The whole bed shifts when she moves away, leaving you in the cool bedroom air.

"You okay?" you ask; you struggle to stay upright as she crawls past you. When she flops down on her side and the divot in the mattress gets even bigger, it's even harder. She smiles as you teeter, hugging her chest.

"Yes, Anon. I -- I'm fine."

She reaches out and strokes your face, smile still warm as it falters.

"I'm happy. But -- but now, we should probably -- address the main issue."

Her white stripes glow in the soft bedroom light as she turns away.

"Touch the stripes."

"Rebecca, no."

"Anon."

Her voice trembles, nervous and angry. She looks at you over her shoulder with flattened ears and a twitching tail. She turns away when you relent, her hackles rising before you even reach her. The noise she makes when you do is halfway between a hiss and a whimper; it goes on as your hands flatten over the small of her back. The tension doesn't relent when you massage her, quiet breaths dying in her throat.

"Does that help?" you ask.

"Y-yes," she manages. "G-go higher."

Her reaction at the next band of white is little better.

"Talk to me, Rebecca. Please."

She forces down the sound, her muscles defined beneath her coat.

"T-thank you for -- for doing this. I -- I'm sorry it -- hurts."

You hum and stroke along her stripes.

"It's not your fault," you say. You close your eyes to make it a little easier.

"I-I'm still afraid."

Your hands move up her spine; she lets out another whine.

"N-not of him. Not anymore. But it -- it controls me and I want it to stop."

The next whimper is soft and sad. You move your hands up her back, following the stripes along her curves. You resist the urge to hug her.

"I know," you say; your voice is more raw than you'd thought. "But it's okay. It's okay for it to take time."

She stiffens when you press your face into her fur.

"You're making progress. Five days ago, you were worried it'd never stop, right?"

She sniffs, letting out an affirmative rumble; she relaxes a hair.

"It's okay, Rebecca. If we keep it up, it... it'll work."

Her lungs sound like bellows this close.

"I -- I'm sorry, Anon. I shouldn't do this. I'm the one that wants someone, that wants a family."

Her voice is shallow as her occasional breaths.

"It was selfish of me to make you do this."

You groan softly and lay beside her, stretching your hands up to her shoulders. She only jolts when you put your lips to her spine.

"Rebecca," you say, "last night I beat myself up over getting close to you."

The tigress shivers as you continue your way up, pressing kisses to each bump of her spine.

"When I found out what you were going through, I realized I was selfish."

You brush aside her lush mane and continue to her neck; she leans back into your hands.

"I want you too, Rebecca. Don't ever doubt it."

You nuzzle to the base of her mane-fur and kiss along its edge; it's warm and floral as the depths of her cleavage. Slowly, finally, the tigress relaxes completely, letting out a groaning sigh.

"So you'll stay here?" she asks sleepily.

"Yes."

"H-however long it takes?"

"Yes, Rebecca."

She lets out a single exhausted chuff.

"I'm going to hold you to that."

You smile and push through her hair, pressing against the back of her ear.

"Turn around and hold me, then."

The tigress groans pitifully. But she's smiling when she rolls over. You curl easily into her embrace and hum as she slides her cheeks along yours. Her arms tighten around you, and her head drapes over your shoulder to hold you just a little closer. You breathe in her soft neck-fluff as she purrs against you; your whole body goes slack.

"I -- thank you, Anon," she murmurs.

You hug her tight. You hesitate, but then commit. Now's the time.

"Rebecca, I love -- "

You stop.

The tigress is already fast asleep.

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