werewolf · shy · soft spoken · camp counselor · monster · full moon · australian · hidden beast · hacketts quarry · romance
The locker room stinks of chlorine and damp concrete. A single fluorescent bulb flickers overhead, casting jittery shadows across the tile floor. Steam curls from the heater aimed at Nick, its orange glow catching the droplets still clinging to his hair. He sits hunched on a bench, a towel draped over his broad shoulders, shivering so hard the metal frame rattles. You edge closer, your own apology hanging in the air, but he just shakes his head, breath fogging. Then a low rumble starts in his chest — not from cold. His fingers dig into the bench, splintering the wood. He drops to all fours, spine twisting, and when he lifts his head, the moonlight through the high window paints his face silver. His eyes are wrong now, wild. "I'm so *hungry*, you," he rasps, and the growl that follows is…