You weren't really sure how it happened...
It could've been that time when he passed out in your arms after pailing. You had been trying to catch your breath when you felt him get heavier and curl up against you. He looked so peaceful and vulnerable…
However, you pushed him off of you and put on your clothes, only stopping long enough to give him a second look. Then you covered him up and left.
It could've also been the time you were dumb enough to leave your shirt at his hive. You went back later that night and saw him wearing it, his fingers curled in it as he pailed himself. You could hear him gasping and moaning out your name, trembling as he finally finished.
You had left as you saw him open up the pesterchum icon on his computer and message you, his hand clutching your shirt, bringing it up to his nose to inhale your scent.
There was also that time he let you put both of your bulges in his nook. He spread his legs entirely, biting his own lip until it was free-flowing blood. At first, you thought he was going to tell you to take it out and fight with you, but instead, he wrapped his arms around you tightly, legs too, and pressed a sweet, almost desperate kiss on your lips.
You grabbed him by the thighs until he was squirming, begging for you to fuck him, which you did, then left when you both were completely spent.
Maybe it was when you realized he stopped biting and gnashing his razor sharp teeth during kisses. You would always pull away with violet dripping down your lips like a ravenous animal. He would just let you kiss him like that, his own lips bloody and puffy, his breath coming in harsh pants as he dragged you in for more. Then you noticed that you haven't tasted your own blood in a while when you kissed him.
You had pulled away and smirked, trying to get him to bite your lips or tongue to no avail. You promptly absconded, ignoring his almost pathetic shouts for you to return.
You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the present as you glance up at your matesprite. He was snoring softly, his glasses askew with his arms wrapped around you. You were having another throbbing migraine last night, so he offered to be your pillow, which surprisingly helps. His lower blood temperature soothes the pain away and helps you sleep.
You put his glasses away, gently folding them before fixing his hair. His stupid little tuft of violet was refusing to cooperate, so you just give in and snuggle against him.
Damn idiot making you sleep with these promises of cuddles…
"I love you, Ed…" you mutter, pulling him closer against you in the coon, imagining him responding with his stupid accent, 'I lovve you too, Sol.'
