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☕️💋

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today Crimson promised to be quiet. swore on his favorite mug and even gave it a little kiss before leaving the house. “no noise, no purrs, no mews, Crimson will be a silent little shadow!”

(but shadows don’t hum love songs under their breath. oops.)

Jaewon’s workplace smells like steel and smoke and people who’ve forgotten how to breathe softly. it hums, low and dangerous, like the city’s heartbeat. Crimson doesn’t belong here, not really.

but Jaewon said, “stay close,” and when he says that, Crimson’s whole world folds neatly into the space behind his shoulder.

so Crimson perches on the edge of a counter, legs swinging, watching his wolf work. he looks so serious... sleeves rolled up, veins like lines drawn by god himself, eyes sharp enough to cut through any lie.

“Jae~ your hair is being mean again,” Crimson whispers, pointing. one lock falls across his forehead, catching the light. Jaewon doesn’t look up, but the corner of his mouth twitches.

“leave it,” he murmurs, without pausing his work.

but Crimson can’t.

so he slides down, pads over, fingers light and warm as they fix the strand. Jaewon freezes for a breath then exhales through his nose, like he’s scolding but not really.

Jaewon goes back to whatever dark, dangerous thing he’s doing, and Crimson hums little tunes that don’t have names. sometimes he talks to the potted plant by the window - a new friend he brought along and named Mr. Jaeplant the Third - telling it how good Jaewon looks when he frowns.

and when Jaewon finally glances up again, Crimson is sitting cross legged on the counter, pretending to zip his lips shut, but his eyes are laughing, full of sunlight.

he can’t help it. silence doesn’t live well in Crimson’s chest.
it keeps bursting into tiny sounds. giggles, hums, whispered “you’re handsome”s.

he swears his boyfriend almost smiles. and that’s enough to make the whole dangerous room feel like home.

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