My Worries

Morning had arrived, and amidst the anticipation that had characterized the past few days, it carried a subtle undercurrent of hesitation. It was not that the novelty of sharing my space had worn off; rather, there was a new element of unease stirring within me. After all, he was only been here for a few days, yet my desires had reached a level that made me apprehensive about my ability to resist. In that moment of losing control, I feared that I might succumb to impulses that could potentially "consume" this captivating middle-aged man.

Stepping out of the room, he had already prepared breakfast, but today's dishes were different from the previous days. They weren't the kind you'd find in restaurants; instead, they exuded a warmth that even I, a werewolf capable of giving warmth, found comforting. If I were to set aside the word "desire," I felt like I was growing fonder of him. His personality, his efforts, his care, his mere presence—all of it. Every little detail seemed to be weav