When You Love a Wolf: Calender Girl

“Calendar Girl”

"Calender girl, who's in love with the world, stay alive." - Stars

The grey early morning light filled the clearing with a warmth that the rest of the surrounding woods lacked in the early hours. A slight frost glazed the trees and long blades of grass. It was slowly beginning to melt, leaving behind damp, dark earth and bark.
         The shades of muted colors seemed welcoming, like a mother’s shoulder to a child. I couldn’t have been happier using the clearing as my shoulder to rest on. I was stretched out, naked, in the wet green grass. My body was sweat-slicked and warm, steaming slightly from the heat of my muscles which were humming with life from the night’s activities. Although it had to be in the forties out here, I didn’t care. I was alive, every cell of my being singing. A laugh broke out from me, sounding slightly choked from my unused vocal chords. They had been hardly used during the night and now felt cold. I laughed harder, sending hot air through my throat to fill the space around me with little vapor clouds.
                I rolled onto my stomach, letting the cold grass brush against my pale skin. I clutched a handful in my long fingers, enjoying the coolness as the sensation crawled up my arm to my core from my chilled fist. A sigh escaped me, my eyes yielding to the blonde locks that fell over my temples.
                “Tired, baby?” a voice rumbled above me. The smell of Liam filled my nose suddenly which had previously been buried in the sweet clover and grass.
I flipped back over, looking up at him, my eyes adjusting to his tall frame, still flushed from his Change. His skin glowed with color and sweat, unlike mine that had cooled off and returned to its natural pale shade. He was smiling crookedly, a boyish glint to his eyes.
                “Not at all,” I replied, returning the smirk. “You?”
                He lowered himself down to his hands and knees before stretching out in the grass beside me. “Nope,” he sighed once he had made himself comfortable on his back, hands folded on his chest. I rolled onto my side, running my dew-damp hand up his arm. He was warm and smelled of sweat and musk, a delicious mix. His muscles tensed before relaxing at my touch. “It’s gotta be around five,” he added, turning his head from the sky to me. “What time do you…?”
                He trailed off, unable to finish his question I knew he would ask. I looked away before sitting up. I knew this moment was coming long before I had agreed to go for our run. The response that was caught in my throat could only hurt us both. I pushed the gobbled up words down back into the pit of my stomach, where the rest of my emotions tumbled.
                “Eleven,” I replied, turning my head to give me a sad half smile. “Plenty of time.”