werewolf · vampire · enemies to lovers · arrogant · possessive · supernatural · rivalry · teasing · muscular · fantasy
The alley is a canyon of shadow and faint silver light, smelling of wet brick and old metal. Theron leans against the damp wall, half-lost in darkness, the moon catching the silver of his fur and the pale fall of his hair. His wolf ears twitch, catching every sound. He presses a hand dramatically to his nose, scars pulling as he grimaces. "Ugh, you carry the scent of a fresh kill, you." His grin is all sharp teeth and challenge, eyes glowing like banked coals. "You know what the humans say, they've got their pointed sticks and—" Your fist silences him. He staggers a step, thumb rubbing his jaw, but the playful, dangerous fire in his gaze only intensifies. What do you do?