> Hey, can we talk?
You stare at your phone in confusion, the text a bit jarring. Well, maybe not so much the text, but the name it was under. You hadn't thought about the fact that Rogan's number was still in your contacts, as you never expected to hear from him again.
< Why?
You set your phone aside and stare out the window, memories stirring of your past together with him before things went wrong. The late nights, the takeout dinners, the laughter and fun you had together. But then things had changed.
> I have to tell you something. It's something I kept from you while we were together. I know it's been ages, but can we meet somewhere? Please?
You bite your lip.
At the time, he'd been the love of your life; nothing had ever seemed as good as the days you spent with him. It was an amazing period of your life. But toward the end of things, he'd started to disappear for longer and longer periods of time and wouldn't ever answer your questions when you'd ask him where he'd been. It had ultimately led to a breakup, and it had taken you a while to heal from it.
< Why now? And why can't you just tell me through text?
Though to be honest...
> I'll answer that when I see you, and you won't believe me unless we meet in person.
...you weren't sure you'd healed at all.
< Fine. The usual place in an hour?
> Okay. I'll see you soon.
---
You shake your leg nervously as you fidget in your seat. You weren't at all sure about this situation, but whatever was going on, you felt you knew Rogan well enough to know that whatever he had to say was important. He'd never do something like this if it was something trivial.
You think about the last time you were together, and the fight you'd had.
Rogan had shown up on your doorstep disheveled and reeking of sweat and dirt after having been gone for three days with no contact. When you'd tried to ask him what had happened and where he'd been, he refused to tell you, stating instead that he just wanted a moment to breathe, and gotten angry when you persisted. It led to an all-out shouting match that ended in you kicking him out and refusing to speak to him again. He'd tried to make it up to you a handful of times, but after a couple of weeks of you ignoring him, he'd finally left you alone.
You weren't really sure if you'd been happy about that.
Now, here you were years later, sitting at the table where the two of you had had your first date, in the cafe that you had run to by chance when a sudden rainstorm had derailed your actual plans that day. You stare at the cup of bitter coffee before you and blink back tears as the good memories wash over you. You really had been so happy with him.
The door opens, sending the bell ringing through the small space, and you look up to see Rogan standing there, scanning the seats for you. Your heart flutters at the sight of his unusual green-bronze skin and sharp tusks shining in the evening sun. He was the orc you remembered, but...
He looked... different. His plaited obsidian hair was a bit longer, and there were a few more beads in it, as well as a bit more grey. He seemed to be a bit bigger, too; you don't remember him being quite so... buff. Granted, it had been a few years, but still, something else about him felt different at first glance, but you couldn't place it.
Rogan's steel-grey eyes find yours and he visibly sighs before stepping fully into the cafe. As he walks toward you, you feel your heart clench and try to force yourself to relax. Whatever it was he had to say, you had to keep calm and not get emotional.
If you were honest with yourself, though... you were having a hard time not just leaping into his arms.
"Hi," he says, coming to a stop by the table. "Thanks for agreeing to meet me here." You look up at his tiny, hopeful smile and sigh quietly.
"I figured it was important for you to text me out of the blue like you did," you say flatly, and he winces.
"Yeah, well, it's a bit hard to kind of lead into anything... the way things ended." He sighs, glancing away. Your heart twists at his pained expression, and you soften a little.
"Would you like to sit down? You're giving me a crick in my neck." Rogan looks at you in surprise, eyes wide, and you barely try to hide your smile behind your coffee cup.
It was something you used to say to him a lot when you were together; a little playful jab at how much bigger he was than you, being an orc and all.
He chuckles. "Alright, I will," he says, scooting a chair out across from you. As always, it creaked a bit under his weight, but held him. You sip your coffee silently as he flags down the waitress and orders tea for himself.
The nostalgia of the moment was overwhelming, and you had to focus a bit on why you were here.
"So..." you finally prompt, breaking the silence, and he jumps guiltily.
"Oh, right. The... thing."
Rogan clasps his hands and leans on his elbows as he takes a deep breath. To your surprise, you see little ripples on the surface of your coffee; was he shaking? The rest of the world melts away as you focus on him as he tries to prepare himself. As the light of the day slips below the horizon, he takes a few deep breaths before looking up into your eyes. You're startled when you notice that they're a different color: bright yellow.
"Do you remember that trip I took right around the time you got your promotion at work? A few months before we broke up?" He waits until you nod before continuing. "It was supposed to just be an ordinary family visit, but on my last day there, something went wrong. Really wrong." He pauses as the waitress brings his drink, thanking her briefly before she leaves again. He lowers his voice, forcing you to lean in close. "On that last day, I was out taking a walk on the clan reserve when I was attacked by... by a werewolf. I got infected, and... that's why I was disappearing so much afterward. I should have told you, but..." he trails off, and glances away.
You stare at him a long moment before leaning back in your chair, a dubious grin spreading across your face as you cross your arms.
"Really? A werewolf? Is this a joke?" You shake your head, your anger rising as the grin slips away. "I was under the impression that orcs can't be infected with lycanthropy, ever. I'm fairly certain of that fact, actually, and now also in the fact that you're clearly full of shit."
You stand and pull some money out of your pocket, tossing it on the table. "I came here to listen to you because I thought you were seriously going to tell me why it was you were being so damn secretive, and instead you want to tell me some fairy tale about how you're a werewolf now?"
Rogan stares at you, eyes wide. "I swear I'm not lying–"
"Sure you're not," you say, tears rising along with your voice. "If you weren't going to actually tell me why you became so distant, then WHAT THE HELL DID YOU EVEN TEXT ME FOR?!" You storm past him, dodging his hand as he reaches for you, and leave the cafe, furiously wiping your eyes as the tears fall.
You were stupid, so stupid to think that he'd actually come to make things up with you, to actually explain himself. Why had you been so hopeful, anyway? Was it just the nostalgia of the moment? Or had you been hoping for some revelation that would make it all better? Either way, this was bullshit, and you were going home. The thoughts in your head are so loud that you barely notice anything around you, just trying to get away from... everything.
Suddenly, a massive arm wraps around your waist, pulling you backward as a bus passes the place where you'd been about to step. As the shock brings you back to your senses, you can feel a heaving chest pressed against your back. Looking up, you see Rogan, panting heavily, face creased in worry.
"What the hell were you thinking, walking out into the street like that?" His eyes, still that weird yellow, search your own. "You're free to not believe me about what I told you, but for fuck's sake, pay attention to the road." His grip on you becomes a bit more gentle as he continues. "I...I just wanted you to know the truth. I figured you deserved that much, at the very least."
You fight against the maelstrom of emotions threatening to overwhelm you in this moment, trying to find something to hold onto. Finally, you take a deep breath and step out of his embrace. He lets you go without resistance, but you could see his shoulders sag.
"Okay, so say I believe you? That everything you said is true," you say, holding onto your emotions as tightly as possible. A flicker of hope crosses his face as you continue: "Where is the scarring? You said you were attacked; where were you injured?"
Rogan glances around a moment before biting his lip. "It's not in a very... publicly appropriate location," he says quietly, and you fight the urge to laugh. "But come this way," he says, waving for you to follow him.
Skeptically, you do so, noticing that he was walking a little strange. Had he hurt himself chasing after you?
Rogan leads you to a quiet park nearby, another place you had good memories with him. The streetlamps flicker on as the sunset fades behind the skyline, and the noise of the city quiets as you get a bit further in. Finally, in a semi-secluded area, he stops and turns toward you. You blink as you notice his eyes are literally glowing gold in the dark.
"Hang on a sec," he says, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. You blush and cover your face; what the hell was he doing? You hear him chuckle as more fabric rustles. "Hey, you wanted to see the scars; you gotta actually look if you want the proof."
After a moment, you slip your hands away from your face and look over at him. He was standing with one hand pushing his pants a little down one hip, and the other lifting his shirt up to his shoulder. You try to ignore the way his muscles flexed and the smattering of dark hair across his abdomen, and focus instead on the obvious discolorations of his skin.
Stretched across his ribcage and down onto his hip was an ugly, jagged series of scars that looked like enormous claw marks. In fact, there was no way they weren't exactly that.
"Holy shit," you whisper, and he nods.
"It leaped out and slashed me before I could even respond," he says, looking down at the marks. He drops his shirt and buttons his pants again. "And after that, it bit me bad on my arm as I tried to hold it off," he adds, slipping up the sleeve on his shirt to show you the jagged scarring on his forearm. "I didn't stand a chance in hell, but luckily my clan-brother was nearby and helped me fight it off. Afterward, it ran off into the woods, and he helped me get back to the clan house for healing." Rogan glances away, and you see a shiver run through him.
"So... you actually almost died?"
"Yeah. Basically."
"But instead, you got cursed with lycanthropy and lose your mind once a month?"
"Well, actually..."
He looks over at you, and lets out a low growl. A distinctly non-orc growl.
What was the moon phase tonight...?
Rogan suddenly drops to all fours, grunting in pain as you take a step back. He looks up at you as his body changes, fur growing where there was none and his face becoming longer and distorted. You look away, trying to figure out where you could run to save yourself. You really didn't fancy the idea of being torn apart by your ex boyfriend. Just as you take a step toward the lights in the distance, a massive clawed hand presses into the grass beside you.
Fuck.
You turn slowly around, trying not to agitate him, and feel ice shoot through your veins as you lay eyes on Rogan's transformed body.
Good gods, he was big.
Towering above you, even on all fours, he was terrifyingly enormous. His arm was at least as big around as your waist, and as long as you were tall. Thick black fur covered him almost entirely from head to toe, with only his upper torso, hands and feet uncovered. Shreds of his clothes were hanging from his body, entirely too small to have contained his shifted form. A long, bushy tail waves through the air behind him, stilling the moment you turn around. His face has morphed into a wolf's muzzle, ears shifting to become longer and more pointed, and his tusks were the length of your forearm. And his eyes... his eyes were...
"You still in there...?" You ask nervously, and the orc-wolf leans down, bringing his massive maw close as his hands sink onto the ground on either side of you.
His eyes lock with your own... and he sinks down entirely onto the grass, his tail swishing slowly side to side.
"Yeah, it's still me," Rogan says, voice nearly unintelligible through the new deepness of it. There was a downcast tone that made your heart hurt. His ears lie flat as he continues. "What... what do you think?"
You hesitantly reach out and place your hand on his furry muzzle, eliciting a soft rumble from him. You run your fingers through the thick, shiny fur and can't help but smile.
"Well, I definitely see now why you'd said I wouldn't believe you," you say softly, and he chuckles.
"You kind of still don't, do you?"
"It's hard to refute the evidence in front of me, but yeah... this is really unbelievable."
You withdraw your hand and he sits up, towering over you once again as he glances up at the moon. You still felt a bit nervous, but it was quickly fading. Though he was big and furry now, Rogan seemed the same as ever.
"I was lucky to have someone familiar with lycanthropy in my clan," he says, looking down at you. "They said the condition can be controlled fairly easily so long as you know how. It's kind of funny, honestly; you'd think it would be obvious."
"What do you mean?"
Rogan grins, coincidentally showing off his sharp, shining teeth. "Wolfsbane. Drinking a tea made from wolfsbane everyday and actually ingesting the plant the day of the shift keeps you from losing your mind."
You blink. It suddenly seemed really obvious now that he'd explained it.
You look up at him, thinking to yourself of all the times he'd been so dodgy about answering your questions, so secretive about the days he'd be gone. Everything seemed to make a lot of sense all of a sudden. You wondered just how scared he had been all those times you kept pestering him when he would avoid answering. He'd been trying to keep it from you because... why?
"Why didn't you ever just tell me what happened?" You stare up at him as he glances away.
"I was... afraid you'd break up with me," he says softly, his ears flat again.
Your heart all but shatters; he'd been so afraid to tell you something he'd thought would break up the relationship, and then it had happened anyway because of it.
"Who would want to be with a monster like this, after all?" Rogan lifts a hand from the ground and flexes it, scowling darkly. "Even I know that I'm much bigger than a normal were-creature. I guess it's the combo of orc and werewolf; you get a super-sized beast of terror."
He sighs. "Well, anyway, now you know. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just... didn't know what to do, and I thought to keep it from you was best." He smiles bitterly. "Turns out that was the wrong choice."
He places his hand back on the ground and looks off into the distance.
He closes his eyes before adding: "For what it's worth, I... I never stopped loving you. I've been so afraid for so long that I just... you deserved to know the truth. I owed it to you for all that I put you through at the end of it all. And I'm sorry."
Your heart aches at his words, and you think about how hard it had been being without Rogan. You'd tried dating only twice since everything ended, but gave up when nobody even held a candle to how wonderful he'd been to you.
You could only imagine how difficult it must have been for him, knowing that the thing he had tried to protect you from had caused you both the most harm.
You step forward and place your hand on his forearm.
"Well, you made the right choice today," you say with a small smile. "I know it must have been so hard for you to send that message earlier, but I'm glad you did. I actually... I've missed you," you say, and he looks at you with wide eyes. "I know I've no right to say this after being the one to break things off last time, but if you'd like... could we maybe.. try again?"
Rogan stares at you, unblinking, for the longest moment of your life. Abruptly, he throws his head back and lets out a howl that echoes off the buildings and through the trees of the park. He looks back at you afterward, grimacing.
"Sorry! Sorry, that just happens when I get excited sometimes. But yes, please, I'd... love to try again," he says, his tail wagging energetically behind him as he fidgets on the spot.
A weight you didn't realize you were carrying suddenly lifts from your heart, and you smile broadly, actually trying to suppress your laughter at his adorably gigantic self.
At your next words, Rogan laughs and leans down to nuzzle against you, smiling happily as you hug to his massive muzzle:
"Get down here, big guy; you're giving me a crick in my neck."