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It has been five hours since Scar awoke. Still, he remains silent as a sheep cloaked in the warmth of its own wool waiting for the wolf to pass it by. Except, in this case, there is no wolf hunting him down, not yet, at least. And the warmth he so desperately seeks does not come from his own volatile forte for once, but instead in the calming embrace of a certain feather haired woman. Yangyang. With practiced slowness, he gingerly shifts his body on its side to behold her sleeping form nestled in the sheets, in him. Black and gray feathery bangs frame her relaxed face in such a way that nearly steals his breath away.
Hm, since when did I become so sappy?
Instinctually, his clawed hand slides up from her side to brush them away before lightly cupping her cheek. A singular clawed thumb strokes over her skin as he silently marvels at its softness. Yangyang subconsciously shifts closer to the expected heat radiating off his hand. With a soft chuckle, Scar leans to peck her forehead, careful to miss her tacet mark. His tender grip on her cheek ever so slightly tightens.
Mine. Mine all mine.