I Hate My Boyfriend (0/0) (OPEN!)

Wren happily followed, his posture extremely bouncy and confident.
Stitch nuzzled Coco and began jumping around, yipping to play.
The man slid onto the counter, kicking his legs happily like a small child. He was extremely juvenile.
Adding to the childish demeanor, he unfolded a small blanket and wrapped it around himself, yawning very dog-like as his tongue curled up and his incisors peeked out. The slight claws on his hands pierced the blanket only slightly, and other scratch marks were visible.
“So? Nice cold weather, huh?” he asked, cocking his head as he watched Valentina move around the kitchen.

Wren completely dismissed the woman’s remark, yet hopped off the counter anyway.
“Well, I like the cold. I think it’s nice,” he said with a kind smile. “When I transform in summer, it’s horrible. Way too hot.”
He let out a slight sigh, wrapping the blanket further around himself. He either didn’t notice how hostile the woman was, or didn’t care. Regardless, he just stayed standing there, contently.

“Thank you,” he said in response. A habit of his was being abruptly too polite, but he was never reprimanded of doing so.
He took notice of her stand-offish attitude, so he politely sipped at his cocoa quietly, the blanket looking more like a scarf now than an actual blanket. He leaned over on the counter and sighed, tapping his claw on his mug silently.

“Absolutely everything,” he replied. “Also, your smile is nice. You should wear it more often.”
He gave a grin in response and wrapped his large, clawed hand around the mug. The warmth permeated his skin and he breathed in the sweet scent of chocolate.

Wren involuntarily gave a whimper as his heart sank. Realizing that he’d done it, he cleared his throat and hastily followed after the vampire.
After this, anyone with eyes could tell he was trying to be as composed as possible. He hated being reprimanded— mostly because a lot of people actually liked him, he wasn’t used to it.
He ceased from talking or commenting, and walked with less confidence than before. His eyes were noticeably more dull, as were his feelings.
Maybe she’s right, he thought to himself. I am just a monster. Vampires are elegant and beautiful… we aren’t.
He shook his head, as if doing that would cause the thoughts to leave. He sipped at his cocoa quietly, wanting to thank Valentina for it, but instead, he didn’t say a word.

Wren almost spit out his cocoa and began coughing slightly.
“W-what? Yeah, no, yeah I’m fine— w-why?” he asked nervously. He cleared his throat and shifted the weight from either foot, glancing at the woman’s hand. He knew how she always talked about werewolves… calling them ruthless and disgusting creatures. But this one act— this one gesture— although her hand was cold, made him feel like she didn’t mean any of it. For that split second, in her eyes, he almost saw warmth. Something he hadn’t seen from her in years.

He scoffed at this remark. “Then you’d hate me a load more than you already do— if I’m both a liar and a monster? Good luck.”
Wren kept his eyes locked on hers, growing an air of confidence. It was soon shattered as he felt her hand wrap tighter around his own.
This was so odd. He had absolutely no clue how to react. He could feel his cheeks growing hotter and his skin tingling like it did when he was nervous. All he could do was stand there like a gaping idiot as she interrogated.

Wren continued to stand in the middle of the hallway, awestruck. He looked more like a puppy than ever.
Finally coming to his senses, he tripped after her, entering her library.
He made sure to keep his hands on his mug and to refrain from sitting down. He tried to be as respectful as he could. Wren stood in the middle of the room, calmly gazing up at the books. Though, not even a good book could get his mind off of what the hell just happened.
Though he seemed like a big doof, Wren loved to read. He felt happy and content as he glanced from shelf to shelf, reading the spines from afar.

Wren almost smiled to himself as he watched Valentina read. She seemed so content— something he never saw often.
He continued to read just the names of the books. He swayed around, setting his empty mug down gently on a coffee table. His attention was still held by the various books.
“I’ve read that… read that… that one, too,” he mumbled quietly to himself, tangling his claws in his hair as he brushed it aside. He silently padded around the room, the quiet making him somewhat jittery and anxious.

Wren forced himself not to grin. He held the book in his hands as it voluntarily flipped its own pages. He didn’t resist the urge to put it back, but it wouldn’t let him.
He glanced nervously back and forth between Victoria and the book, trying to hide it so it didn’t look like he had picked it up on his own account. He tried to force it into its place but it wouldn’t leave his hands. Wren nervously sweat, mumbling to himself worriedly.

“W-wha.. F-Freidreich? Re-reading this book? This one?” he stumbled over his words, feeling insanely stupid. He didn’t know if it was from the situation or her beautiful smile. “It it good? Have you… have you read it?”
Wren shuffled his feet, looking down at the book and trying to hide his face. He was blushing like crazy, but hoped the hair falling into his eyes would hide it just the slightest.

Wren cleared his throat, glancing from her eyes to the book in her hands. His face grew even redder.
“You can, uh, read it aloud. I mean, of course, I know German… but I’m down for a… a storytime,” he stuttered, sitting down next to her. He fiddled nervously with his hands. Why was she acting like this? This was so unlike her…
So he decided to embrace it. Why not? He smiled down at her, his fangs only slightly visible. He brushed his hair aside, crossing his legs at the ankle and getting more comfortable.
“Go ahead,” he mumbled. “Let’s hear it.”

Wren noticed the change and stayed quiet, genuinely intrigued with the story. Since Valentina was the only vampire he’d ever known, with the exception of her parents, he found it extremely hard to believe that romance between the two races was possible. Though, with her weird swings today, his heart believed it was slightly more possible that it had been before. As he turned his attention away from the book and onto her face, it seemed all the more possible. Maybe, just maybe.
He found himself drifting and shook his head slightly, forcing his attention back to the book.

Wren tapped his clawed finger on his knee while he listened. He was a fidgety person, but he kept realizing how close she was. It made his nerves worse. That tingling on every area of his skin lingered as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Not only his face, but roughly his body was flushed. He could feel the inner wolf in him longing to come out— something that happened often when he was anxious. It was just a matter of keeping it at bay, which he was generally good at.

“Uh, oh, yeah, ok,” he said, following her out. He gave one last glance at the book before leaving, grabbing his coat and slipping it on. He walked with Valentina down the stairs. At the base, Stitch ran up to him, whimpering and licking at his hands. He scratched his dog on the head with a smile, then looked at Valentina to see if she had left without him or not.