POV: Alex

I could still feel his lips on mine, their furnace like heat, their silky, yet rough texture, him slipping off my shirt and just staring into my eyes, only for him to kiss me again. The memory was still fresh in my mind, still taunting for a recurrence, for another time just like that one. For another chance to prove myself, that I was worthy of everything he was giving me, that I was ready. Whatever I needed to be ready for, I hoped it came quickly, I couldn't bear waiting any longer.

Just thinking about him was killing me slowly, the shape of his body, the taste of his mouth. It was a cruel winter, and it was only gonna get worse if my mind was clouded with thoughts of him. But how could I not think about him? How could I not constantly want to feel his lips against mine? For whatever it was worth, at least he said, "I love you," back. I mean, I knew he liked me, but still, the reassurance was nice to hear.

Now to the nitty gritty of my perverted thoughts: did I want to have sex with him? Most definitely. Did I think I was ready? Hell no. Did I care? Nope.

I just wanted to look at him again, preferably without his shirt on. He wasn't as muscular as I was, but that didn't matter, he was perfect either way. The way his fur was a brownish color, but turned more golden as it went lower. The fur on his face was soft, much better than the coarse wolf fur I was cursed with. And his eyes were mystifying, mesmerizing, perfect little circles of sunlight that lit up my world. I couldn't get enough of him.

There was so much I wanted to say-so much I wanted to do. But I ruined it all by doubting myself, by letting the fear of myself tear down everything I had up until that point. Sure, he was comforting and he seemed to understand, but seriously? How could I let that happen? How could I stop probably one of the best moments of my life, just because of some stupid irrational fear from the past? Or was it...the present?

Maybe I need some friends who are wolves.

I tossed and turned in bed, street lights peaking through the closed blinds, casting ominous shadows around my room. They danced and shifted as cars drove past, blaring their music and revving their engines. It was late, later than I wanted it to be. I just couldn't go to sleep after the New Year's Eve party, I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Someone opened my door, waves of alcohol and cologne stung my sensitive nose.

Dad.

I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep, hoping he would just check to see if I was alive, then move on. But first: why was he up so late? It was like, 3:00 am, there was no reason for him to be awake. Well...maybe because it was a new day, technically.

He let out a long, exaggerated sigh, patting something on his body. "Damn, sure wish he was still awake, really had something to tell him." He paused, I could feel his eyes looking over me. "A real shame, it was something really important."

"Shut up Dad, I'm trying to sleep."

"No you're not, move over." I didn't move, and he sat on my legs.

"Seriously?" I said, turning over to look at his dark figure, reaching my hand over to turn on my lamp. "You look like…"

"A mess, I know." He sighed and I sat up in bed, looking into his deep brown eyes, eyes that would've been mine if I was a red deer. "I can tell when somethings wrong with you," he said, his eyebrows creasing together.

I scrunched up my face. "What? Nothings wrong with me, I'm...fine." The word came out so unnaturally, like I had never used it before. It was so weird to say it again since I hadn't said it in so long, it wouldn't roll off my tongue. My brain had to think about the world for just a split second, but it was a noticeable hesitation.

"You're not fine," he said. "What's wrong?"

I didn't really want to tell him...but...he was my dad. Sighing, I said, "Steven kissed me."

Dad smirked. "Thought that would happen. What about you going on about how you were gonna kiss him first?"

I buried my muzzle in my pillow. "That didn't end up happening."

His hand reached over the scratch behind my ears. Even if I told myself I felt more like an herbivore than a carnivore, I was still a canine on the outside, and his hand felt amazing.

"What's really the matter?" he said, his hand smoothing over the fur on my head.

I took a sharp intake of air, knowing that whatever I was about to say, could've changed his whole opinion on me. "Well...Steven kissed me...and we got a little bit more intimate and…"

"And…?"

"Nothing," I quickly responded.

He rolled his eyes. "Did you end up having sex with him, is that what you don't want to tell me?"

"Dad!" I whispered through teeth.

He groaned, rubbing his temples. "Look Alex, at some point you're gonna have to talk about these things, whether it's with me or your mother. God I hope it's not with your mother. So...did you have sex with him?" His voice rose a little bit, and I was scared to answer.

"Not...really."

"Did you get close?"

"No...well, maybe. I don't really know."

He sighed. "What's the part you're not telling me? I don't want to force it but…"

"But what?" I asked.

"Well…" his voice trailed off. "You're seventeen, you should know how...things work." His eyes glanced down towards my crotch, then back up with a reassuring smile.

"You're disgusting," I said.

"I'm not trying to be, but it's a normal thing. You shouldn't feel embarrassed about it."

I turned over in bed, wishing, hoping, praying he would stop talking. I didn't want to hear anything more he had to say, I already knew everything he was talking about, I didn't know why he felt the need to ask about it again.

"Look," he said again. "You canines have different penises than we red deer, but I've done extensive research, so if you ever need someone to talk too-"

"Dad, holy shit stop talking."

"I'm just saying that you're different from us, and you're a teenager, so I understand that you might have some urges you'd want to deal with."

"Stop beating around the bush and just say it," I said, embarrassment washing over my body.

He sighed again, regaining his composure. "Masturbation, I did it, my dad did it, it's normal. Now I don't know how it works with...yours-but I'm not going to scorn you for doing it."

"Wow, thanks," I said with as much sarcasm as possible.

"I just...just don't call me when you're stuck inside someone, cause I don't know how to help you with that." He shook his head vigorously with a little laugh.

Stuck…?

Oh.

Dad, you're disgusting.

He glanced off to the side. "So, how far did you make it with Steven?"

"How far?" I said, sitting up in bed. "How far?!" I said again. "What kind of question is that?!"

"I knew this would be your reaction."

My voice was low, a creeping growl in my throat, threatening him where he sat.

He didn't react, and I closed my mouth with my hands, feelings tears prick at their ducts. I didn't mean to growl, but it just came out of my throat, low and scary, just like when I was at Steven's.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, ashamed. "I didn't mean it-it just happened." I thought he would be scared, I thought I would be yelled at again, but his reaction destroyed my heart.

He shook his head, laying a hand on my shoulder, a smile on his face. "I gave up being scared a long time ago. Accepting you meant I had to accept every part of you, even the ones which I know you're not proud of. Doesn't matter to me that you're a wolf, honestly it's my fault that I provoked you, I'm sorry."

"No!" I shouted back, not caring if anyone woke up. "No-no I should've-I should've repressed-"

"Stop it Alex," he said back, his voice stern and unwavering. "You don't need to repress anything, you don't need to pretend anymore. Be yourself, let yourself feel emotions. Get mad at me! Get angry at me!" I couldn't help but laugh, like when you're at a funeral and for some reason, you can't help but laugh, and he laughed too.

The laughter subsided, the silent of the night coming back into swing. His voice was quiet again, his face being lit up by the lamp on my bedside table. "I love you, you know that?"

"I do."

"And I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"I know." There was more embarrassment in my body as heat flushed to my face.

"And you know," he cleared his throat. "If you do end up doing something with...Steven, just make sure you're safe about it."

I smirked. "I don't think that's gonna happen for a while."

He patted his legs and stood up. "Ok, well, whenever it does happen-cause I know it's only a matter of a time-just know, I'm always here for you."

An exchange of smiles and the lamp turned off. Sleep came faster than ever with a new semi-positive outlook on life.

He was kissing me again, all over my body. His hands explored every inch, pushing their way up my shirt, rubbing through the fur. I didn't want him to stop, everything felt so amazing.

My shirt came off, then he undid the button on my pants and slowly pulled them down. Next came my underwear as he kissed me harder, faster, trailing down my stomach to the bottom.

I woke up with an ache in my pants and heavy breathing—no, panting. There was a wetness in a specific spot. I flung off the covers, cursing to myself and changing my clothes. Light bled through the blinds and I sighed heavily, knowing it was just a dream.

Mom came in just as I finished changing into a darker shade of sweatpants. "Good, you're up," she said, her voice sharp and articulate. She leaned against the door frame, watching me intently as I towered over here. Another reminder of my wolf status, another cage I couldn't escape. "Is there something you want to tell me?" she said, trying to use all of her motherly instincts to get information out of me; she was good at that.

"No," I responded.

"Must've been some party." She drew out the words, eyeing all of my clothes on the floor. "Did you have fun?"

"It was alright." I tried to push past her, but she held her resolve.

"I can tell when you're hiding something from me," she said.

I faked a confused expression. "I'm not hiding anything, I'm just tired."

"How are you tired?" She checked her watch, the only animal I knew who actually carried a watch. "It's 1:00 pm, you slept for like...twelve hours."

I think it was more like, five...but sure.

She sighed, possibly knowing she wasn't going to get anything out of me. "You're my son, but sometimes I feel like you're just a puzzle. I'm trying to put the pieces together, trying to understand how you work, but I just can't figure it out."

"Maybe I don't want you to figure it out," I said with a little bit too much force than I wanted too. "Maybe that puzzle, which you can't seem to piece together, is keeping me connected."

I tried to push past her again, but she held my gaze, putting a hand on my chest. If I listened closely, if I really tried, I could hear her heartbeat. It was quick, rhythmic, and loud. "Don't do this again, don't shut yourself out," she said.

"I'm not shutting anything out."

"You're shutting me out."

"Maybe there's a reason for it," I said. Her hand left my chest and she stood there for a moment, just looking at her hand. She was probably wondering how it went all wrong, how her son changed so drastically. From a shy quiet wolf, one who wouldn't dare talk back to his parents, one who was terrified to even let loose any part of his carnivores body. But now, it all changed, all changed from one incident that she would never know about.

"Then what's the reason? Why are you so reluctant to talk to me about anything?" I was silent and she continued, her voice rising with each word. "Was it something I said? Something I did? Just please, tell me!" Tears glistened in her dark eyes, a red deer showing emotion, a red deer with a wolf son.

"Just let it go," I said, hoping she would leave me alone, hoping she got the hint from the abruptness of my voice.

"That you tried to kill yourself? That your friend found you lying dead on the bathroom floor-that the school had to call us , that we had to sit in that room for hours and watch as the heart rate monitor spiked and dropped? That we had to watch as nurses, doctors, dear God-everyone in that hospital come and try to save your life? The life which you so eagerly threw away?! What part of that am I supposed to let go! That my own son, my son tried to kill himself because he felt so horrible, because of something his parents and the world did!? What part of that am I supposed to let go!?"

"All of it!" I yelled back, exposing my fangs, letting my natural wolf tendencies take over. "Forget everything I did, pretend like nothing happened and go back to being your normal clueless self!" I rolled my eyes at her hurt expression. "Don't make me the bad guy here, you had your own part to play just like Dad did. Don't put yourself on a pedestal and pretend you were always there for me, that you were always the loving mother you wanted to be."

Tension filled the air like smog in a crowded, polluted city. You could practically swim in it, pushing your body through the thickness, failing from the force you needed to use and drowning in it.

She crossed her arms, her eyes held anger, the dark circles filled with fire. "If that's how you think of me, then fine, be that way." She shook her head and laughed. "Why did I think I could get through to you? Why did I think that you had gotten better, when in reality, you're worse off. Why did I think that-"

"Damnit Mom, I'm gay!"

She went silent, the motions of her hands stopping in place, her mouth slightly open. Her arms fell to her side and she blinked away tears, swallowing hard. Her weight shifted from foot to foot, trying to process what I had just said. Just enough hesitation though, enough to understand her true feelings, to understand how she truly felt about me.

I hung my head low. "Kick me out if you want, it's clear how to feel about me." I turned around, not expecting her to grab my shirt and turn me back around with as much force as she could muster, almost tripping over her measly weight.

Her eyes held pain, so much pain, so much torment. I could see the fire being smothered out by tears, by my words. She strung her words together loosely, not caring about syllables, not caring if she sounded drunk. "W-what? Why...why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was a whisper as she stood there, staring off into the distance.

Scoffing and turning my attention to the crack in the wall behind her, I said, "what difference does it make? You still think the same of me, just like you always had, just like all the times before when you did nothing to stop Dad from doing whatever he wanted."

She went cold, her body stiffening up and shoulders raising. She stayed quiet, my comment cutting deep into her skin, making memories from the past flare up and burn before her eyes. Perhaps she was recounting the times where she didn't do anything, the times where she sat back and let the world burn to the ground.

I scoffed again. "Your silence speaks volumes." I crossed my arms, waiting for her response, but none came. "Dad changed, so why can't you? What's stopping you from seeing me in a brighter light? What's causing you to be distant." I spun the conversation in my favor, seemingly hitting something deep within her from the tears that pricked the corners of her eyes. "I mean Jesus Christ," I said, noting her silence. "You're my Mom!"

"I did change, Alex," she said meekly. "When I saw you lying in the hospital bed...when I saw what you did to yourself…" she began crying, not able to hold back the tears. She sobbed into her hands, trying to say words, but they were just useless rambling, incoherent mumbles mixed with the sounds of sobs. "It's' not what I meant!" she yelled, looking into my eyes. "I didn't mean for any of it to happen like this!"

"Happen like what?" I said, voice devoid of emotion.

She stifled another sob, sniffling and trying to regain her composure. "The things I said, they weren't true-or maybe they were, I don't know anymore! I don't even know what I was trying to accomplish by saying it, by being selfish. But you need to know I was only looking out for you! I couldn't-wouldn't see you like that again!"

"What did you say?" I asked, intrigued, holding back the anger in my chest.

"It doesn't matter, it's not important," she said wiping her face.

"What did you say!?" I yelled back.

She knitted her eyebrows, clenching her fists. "Damnit Alex! I threatened divorce!"

The room was silent.

Silence.

"You-you what?" I said, taken aback.

She shook her head, crying softly. "I knew I couldn't see you like that again, and I knew it was your father who caused the problems. I told him that if he didn't change...I would divorce him."

"How-how could you?" I stepped back a bit, and her eyes grew a little bit wider. Then she looked towards the floor, walking out of my room, and closing the door behind her.

Years and years of emotional torment prepared me for what Mom had said. It was still a shock to the system though, I had no idea what to say. What do you say in that situation? Yell back? Tell her how useless, how stupid that idea was?

No.

There was nothing I could do, nothing I could say. She had walked out and left me alone. I listened intently, hearing her soft sobs from her bedroom, Dad trying to console her.

More darker thoughts began to cloud my mind like a hurricane, torrential downpour and swirling winds of images and thoughts that I assumed were gone from my head altogether. I guess I was wrong.

Then the thought of: did he change for me, or for Mom? Forced its way to the forefront of my mind, slamming against my head and pressuring me into thinking the latter, rather than the former.

It had all started to make sense though; the faint memory of an argument, the full 180 in Dad's personality. Was it all because of Mom? Or did he actually care about me? Did he actually want to change, or was he just forced into it?

At that moment, my wrists looked so weak, so inviting. I couldn't help but scratch at them, feeling over the old wounds, subconsciously stabbing my claws into them, wanting to feel something other than whatever feeling filled my body. I couldn't stop scratching them, tearing the skin underneath the grey fur, pain drowning out every other emotion that crippled my body.

The walls I had built were tumbling down. They didn't put up a fight, and they didn't even make a sound.

Crimson red began to bleed onto my blue sheets, the sticky, thick fluid matting the fur on my arms. It wasn't the river like before, just two tiny streams that gently trickled through the rocks of fur.

It's happening all over again, isn't it? I'm going to cut deeper, the blood will leave my body, and I'll probably die here.

I didn't cut deeper though; standing up from my coffin like position, I made my way over to the bathroom.

Reflections are such a weird thing. You look into it, and you stare back at yourself. Is it really you looking back, or is it someone else? Is it another animal, one who you wished you could be, just the real you? I could never tell. Each time I looked into it, each time I saw my grey eyes, the grey and white fur, the massive hands, tail, claws, fangs, the reminder of what animal I truly was, it filled me with hate.

A shower was all I wanted, the warm water, the soothing emptiness it brought when you sat in it, clutching knees to chest and staring into space. I turned on the water, waiting for it to heat up, then I stripped down, carefully removing my shirt over the wounds.

Stepping into it brought the warmth I was hoping for, the sensation across my skin, the red flowing down into the drain; out of sight, out of mind. It cleared my mind, if only for a moment, and the emotions flooded out of my body, leaving empty. It was all I wanted to feel, empty. It was refreshing, the feeling of nothing, the clear head, the sound of water hitting the tub. It was my dark paradise, a place of refugee and a place of despair.

Moving my knees to my chest only made the void in my heart more apparent. The water hitting my fur, sinking deep enough to soothe the skin underneath, eyes blinking away water that dripped down into them. My ears folded over, the scars on my arms visible for the whole world to see as the water pushed the fur out of the way. Two thin lines on each arm, they weren't straight by any means, they were jagged, like someone was carving a pumpkin and had no idea what they were doing. I touched them, wincing from the shock of pain that erupted through my arm. It was oddly satisfying, so I did it again...and again...and again, just wanting to feel something.

But that "something", I didn't get. The pain, yes, but nothing else.

I turned off the knob after another...ten? Thirty? Minutes in the shower. I didn't know the time, I didn't really care either. The wounds were still fresh, but the blood no longer leaked, just two thin red lines on each arm. They were each visible through my fur, there was no hiding it no matter how hard I tried. Maybe one of my hoodies would've done the job, or maybe just a long sleeve shirt.

The white towel became a bloody mess as I carelessly soaked up the water on my body, the wounds opening up and flowing freely again.

"Damnit," I said, staring at my arms and sighing. Blood was the hardest thing to get out, and I knew Mom would ask more questions about it. It wasn't like she was giving me any answers though, although, I didn't really ask any that required to be answered...all but one.

"Mom." I sighed, heavy and drawn out. I couldn't believe that she actually threatened to divorce Dad, or maybe she was just using it as a cover up to protect herself from whatever else she had said, saying the least important discussion she had with Dad. Not like she would ever tell me the whole story though, not like she even seemed to care about me. Maybe she did, maybe she didn't. It was hard to tell from her facial expression that changed so much, or maybe that was just what it was like to be a mom. Not like I would know, not like I would know what it was like to have carnivore parents either.

There were a couple messages from Jordan on my phone, and a provocative text from Steven which made me cover my eyes and smile. "You're messed up," I said in a whisper, hiding my phone, even though the door was locked.

I pushed open the bathroom door, being blocked off from Dad staring right back at me. My eyes went wide in surprise and he pointed to my chest. "You're not wearing a shirt," he said.

"Well-I just thought nobody would be out here," I stuttered back, trying to hide my body with my arms. Wasn't doing the best of job though.

He sighed. "It doesn't matter, although you do look good for not working out."

Please stop reminding me.

"Do you need something?" I asked, hoping he would say no.

"Yeah, we need to talk."

"Can-can it happen later? I'm kinda-"

"Now," he said with that dad voice that would make any misbehaving child shut right up.

My tail went in between my legs and I begrudgingly walked into my room, throwing on the nearest shirt and sitting down on my bed, waiting for Dad to change back into the animal he always used to be.