Chapter 78- every sentence is an end

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AMINA POV:

Day in, day out, the same four walls begin to become habit, home and a lonely isolation all at once. It becomes safety, sanctuary but one that cost me, one that was borne from compulsion.

But it's a home, a space that I find myself sinking into the regularity of it all... into the constancy of the same four walls, allowing those frazzled, mistrusting instincts slowly come to settle. It allows me to establish somewhere as safe and one that doesn't threaten the safety of my home with Jangmi-without sacrificing or putting a direct label onto the home that's nest.

A space that could've been threatened for my packmate and my kit.

That same kit who has time to learn to adjust, to slowly acclimate herself to a space that's beyond the tattered box she'd been hiding away with me in.

A home and scents that aren't a threat.

But it's a home that despite its intent to protect and shelter feels isolating... confining. Lonely.

"You're out of shape." SJ muses as he pokes at my ear, watching it fold, my hand batting out lazy and sluggish at his own, head tilting back to try snap my fangs at his fingers, watching as he grins, eyes sharp and watchful, lips curled into a lazy smirk.

"I could knock you flat onto your ass any day buck." His eyes spark with challenge.

"Maybe you could've... but you're out of shape. When's the last time you've moved out of bed?" the words are provoking and challenging. Goading.

I don't miss the teasing tone that underlies his words-nor the observation he's made that every single time he's come to visit, and that's frequently enough, that he's seen me curled up in bed.

"Last time I checked there isn't much else for me to do."

"Liar. I know you're trying to get information off Ji Soo, know about your--- walks."

Maybe they hadn't been as elusive or sneaky as I'd thought.

My eyes widen, head tilting as I peer at him.

"Don't know what you mean." I say with a straight face, voice level and unaffected, the lie smooth on my tongue.

The sharp glint of narrowed eyes seem to shine with mirth and unhidden amusement.

"At least you lie without a tell." He muses.

Watchful, watchful--- leaning over to carefully scoop KitKat into his arms, the sharp features of his face softening inexplicably as he cradles her to him. Swaddle and all-half-drowsy and half-awake, slow blinking large eyes that droop and flutter...slowly...slowly taking him in before curving into him, resting her head against his chest with an incomprehensible babbled mumble, muffled by the blanket, ears flickering as a soft rumble echoes in the depth of her chest, tiny and satiated. Content. Blue and brown eyes blinking droopily, a sleepy smile curling at her lips, tugging at the softness beginning to settle on her cheeks.

No longer so starved and malnourished. No longer just skin and bones.

A healthy flushed pink warmth to her skin, his fingers gently skimming over her ears and carding through soft wisps of hair, head curving to nuzzle at her temple, scenting her.

"I'm not lying."

He lets out an unimpressed snort.

"You know every time you come back from an adventure or walk-your clothes have that slightly clinical scent." Nose wrinkling with distaste at it.

And I know exactly what he means.

Knows exactly what scent he's talking about.

The intentionally... vague obscure neutral scent that is steadily, regularly diffused into the air to cleanse it of the scents that would otherwise clog the space, saturate it in a tidal wave of pheromones that would border overwhelmingly thick and nauseating.

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