human going away! :[

Melantha

Common wisdom has it that March has more snowfall than any other month of the year in Colorado. It certainly is not the dazzling beginning of spring that some might have it to be, all rainy storms and new green life. That comes in April, and sometimes you still get gusts of snow into May. March begins this year colder than it was two days ago, the wind frigid and last night's snow a thin blanket here and there on rooftops and knolls.

They are up in the tinyhouse. It is early afternoon but Erich is still sleeping. He and Charlotte came back after dawn from their patrolling in the city and found Melantha in her alcove, curtains pulled, already asleep. Maybe they checked on her, poked noses in just to look at her and sniff at her; maybe they just passed out in their own beds.

And now it's early afternoon and Melantha stayed up late because she works closings mostly and then she slept in and slept and woke in mid-morning and yawned and sneakily-quietly got up to pee and then went back to bed and now it's early afternoon and warmer from sunlight pouring in, and she is delicately, sneakily-quietly climbing up to Erich's loft in her pajama pants and sweater and crawling over his bed toward him, nudging his arm and whispering,

"Scoot over, I wanna get in."

Erich

Erich is asleep. He is zonked out and tucked in and the skylights are shaded so the sun isn't blasting down on his face, but the little gothic window at one end and all the windows lining the sides of the tinyhouse are uncovered to let the light stream in. It's cozy and warm up in Erich's loft, and when Melantha steals up there and whispers for him to scoot over, he sort of wakes in that bleary-startle way of animals.

"Mnhg?" He scoots over, more instinct than comprehension. It puts his back to her, and then he rearranges so he's facing her, pulling back a flap of the bed and then whisking it over her again. "Nnmff."

The truth is Erich has the nicest bed in the tinyhouse. Charlotte has her own room with a real door, but Erich has a queen-sized mattress up there and it's soft and spacious and he still has a bit of room at the very sides to stash stuff. Sometimes it makes Erich feel bad that he has all that room and his sister is crammed into a barely-full-sized bed and his girlfriendbestfriend has neither a door of her room nor a large bed. Right now, though, he's just happy that his girlfriendbestfriend is up in his loft with him, sharing his nice big bed.

Melantha

Her clothing rustles, the blankets rustle, as he grumble-murgles his awareness of her. Melantha, far more alert than he right now, is already tugging the blankets out of the way to get under the covers with him. She scoots down into the warm pockets created by his body filling the space, gets comfortable, then snuggles against his shoulder and chest as he tugs the blankets back over her.

And if Erich should choose to glomp his arms around her and doze off again, Melantha doesn't mind terribly. But she does snuggle closer, pressing their fronts together, through her pajamas and whatever he's wearing or not wearing. She's smiling.

Erich

Glompzonk is, in fact, exactly what happens. She snuggles into him. It's nice. He wraps his arms around her and mumbles something incoherent, something about green ladybugs taking the schoolbus, and then

he's asleep again. An hour or so goes by. The light changes a little; now it's mid-afternoon and cold but brilliant, and Erich wakes in that slowgradual way of his, rolling on his back, yawning wide. His breath is, in all truthfulness, positively fluorescent right now.

Melantha

No, an hour or so does not go by, Erich.

He dozes. Melantha snuggles happily, but Melantha's mind is an easily bored one. She keeps moving around. She had it in mind to make out with him, but Erich apparently didn't use mouthwash last night or something because my god. But she keeps nuzzling him and hugging him in different ways and maybe he tries to make her be still but she doesn't want to be still, she wants Erich to wake up and be awake, hello.

Erich

Okay. He's awake. He's awake because somebody just won't stop snuggling and nuzzling and finding new ways to hug him and after a while even Erich's prodigious appetite for sleep can't quite cut it. He stretches, and he yawns, and that yawn is horrible and fluorescent and mygod and then he flops his arms to either side, curling his toes under the blankets to stretch his calves out.

"Still sleepy," he complains, only he doesn't really mind. "When do you go to work?"

Melantha

"You can sleep when I go to --"

he asks, and she grins, and says

"Not for a while. I was gonna come up here and make out with you but your breath is like, burning my eyebrows."

Erich

Erich laughs, which means there's another toxic blast of morningbreath, but at least he has the good grace to turn a little pink and pull a corner of his comforter over his mouth.

"I had a big bowl of ice cream right before I went to sleep," he explains. "See, it's over there." And he points: up over his head, in that little nook where on Melantha's side of the tinyhouse she keeps her shrine, is a shrine of his own: an empty bowl-and-spoon with the dried-up gross remnants of a nice bowl of ice cream. Pistachio, perhaps, or mint. Green, regardless.

Melantha

Melantha's grin just widens. Her breath isn't exactly scented with honey and sunshine right now either, but it's not positively toxic. She just laughs softly, kissing him on his blanket, right where his mouth is under the protective layers of down. Smiles, then looks over at the bowl of sticky melted ice cream, which makes her nose wrinkle.

"We're gonna get ants if you aren't careful," she tells him. "Or you'll burn the house down with your breath. One or the other."

She hugs him again. "I kinda wanted to talk to you about something before I go to work, though."

Erich

Erich grins. Even with the blanket up she can see the grin in his eyes. She foretells their doom by ants. His forehead lines as he looks upupup at the bowl.

"Okay, I won't do that when it gets warmer," he promises. "I'll just eat ice cream sandwiches. Or bars."

She hugs him again. There's something comfortable and pleasant, Erich thinks, about being hugged by a Melantha in pajamas. Her body's all warm and soft through warm-soft fabric. He, on the other hand, is in his shorts and little else, his skin smooth and fair.

"Okay," he says. "What about?"

Melantha

"Well... I talked to Charlotte about this a while ago. Back in January, when you decided to challenge and when she and I were hanging out, but... there just hasn't been a great time to mention it and you had your challenge and all the stuff going on with the septs, but..."

Melantha pauses, taking a breath, tucked into his blankets with him.

"I was thinking about us building another tinyhouse. And that like... maybe it could be my house."

She's quiet for another moment, but just a few seconds before rushing on ahead: "And you and Charlotte could come and go and it would be your house too because we're all a pack and you're my best friends. You guys could both sleep there and eat there and go back and forth, we'd just have more room, but... it'd kind of be mine." Melantha licks her lips. "And I don't want you to think I'm like... using this as a bargaining chip or trying to manipulate you into being okay with it because I think this whole thing is gonna make you kind of sad, but another reason I want it is because then you and I could be together more."

Since: Cold Crescent has been steadily re-filled with Garou and there's not exactly hotel rooms there.

Since: they can't exactly have sex outside in 20 degree weather.

Since: they haven't tried going to a hotel since the first time they tried and Melantha felt completely weird about it.

She takes a breath, adds quietly: "I'm kind of dying to have sex with you again, Erich."

Erich

She's right: the whole thing does make him sad. The very mention of separating the tinypack into two tinyhouses fells his crest, it makes him wrap his arms around her tighter, it makes his brow crinkle up and he looks just about ready to howl when she tells him

that they could still just come and go. And visit each other and be welcome in each others' homes and and and also sex. Erich doesn't look exactly bargain-chipped, or even 100% convinced, but some of the howliness does abate. A little.

"I love that we all live in the same tinyhouse," he says quietly. "I love hearing you come home at night, or coming home to hear you breathing in your little alcove. I love waking up and looking down and seeing you eating cereal and just... just living in the same space.

"I guess I get it though. I mean, you haven't really had your very own place since ... I don't even know. In a way I guess that apartment Senator Wyrmsbreath got you was the last one you had that was yours, except it wasn't really yours because he had a key too. Gross. And then before that it was a hotel, and I guess before that you were on a different secret mission and just... yeah. I get it, wanting your own place.

"Maybe you don't have to sleep there every night, though. Maybe we can keep your loft the way it is and sometimes you can just sleep here."

Melantha

since... I don't even know.

"I never have," she says quietly, but it's an interjection: he's still talking. He gets that the apartment wasn't even hers, it wasn't hers at all, really. She wasn't delighted by it because it was hers, she was delighted by it because she could ruin him. He's treading backwards, trying to figure it out, but maybe that quiet interjection stalls that: she's never had her own place.

And he gets it.

But she saw the way he looked like his heart was breaking, like he was about to burst into howls at the thought of her going into her own den, not sharing with he and Charlotte. Her brow is furrowed with pain she's borrowing from his heart.

"I like living with you and Charlotte, too," she says, but it's not the same: she doesn't love it like he does. And she doesn't flinch from telling him that, no matter how gently the let-down is. "But it'd be nice to have more than one bathroom, and a little more room. I sorta... was thinking it'd be nice if Charlotte could have my alcove to be more of a Theurge-y space. So she can have more room to make stuff that isn't like... right on the dining table or shoved in her room. But we'd still eat together and I'd still sleep here sometimes, but I'd probably just sleep with you or Charlotte. And I'd make sure we have enough room so we can all sleep there, too, if we wanted. It'd just be like having one house, just with some extra walls."

Erich

Erich is quiet a while, which is how he gets when he's thinking. And he is still holding Melantha sort of tight-close, and while he thinks he sort of nuzzles her mindlessly, mournfully, like she was going away forever and ever even though that's not even remotely true.

"Well," he says slowly, "I guess if we mostly still park together it won't be too bad. And maybe we can design your tinyhouse and fix up this one in a way that we can like. Dock. And then it really could be one house if we wanted it to be.

"I'm really sad though. I'm not saying it to make you feel bad. I just am. I love that we all live together," he says again; might not even realize he's repeating it. "And I don't want to keep you from having your own place when you've never had your own place before, because that's heartbreaking too. But I'll miss you."

Melantha

Erich is an animal, and he's taking this way worse than Charlotte did. Melantha is uncomfortable as he nuzzles her, so sadly that it's almost overwhelming. She frowns as he starts working out how it won't be so bad and if they can do this it will be less bad and he's so sad. She winces.

"Erich," she says quietly, putting her hand on his cheek to stop his nuzzling long enough that she can look at his face. "I want you to be okay with this, but... if I need to, I'll hire other people to help me build it or something. Cuz if it's my house, then I'm gonna make it the way I want it. Even if the way I want it isn't what you want, or doesn't help you feel less sad. I can love you and be your friend and everything even if I'm living next door."

She exhales softly. Let's be fair: it's a quiet sigh. "I need to have my own place, Erich. Just like I needed my own alcove, and my own car. I have to have a life that's... really for me."

Erich

Pressed back like that, face to face with Melantha, Erich is so clearly and obviously an animal that it's almost impossible to imagine anyone not seeing him as he is. And like an animal, he is possessed of a certain clear-eyed innocence; a lack of the higher comprehension necessary to really get what she's telling him, and what he even realizes on an intellectual level.

She needs her own space. She's never had that before, and she needs that. He understands that with his brain; it's the emotional, raw, instinctual side of him that gets stuck in a rut. That can't help but see this as her going awayawayaway, distancing, yet another person slipping out of his grasp.

And, being an Erich, he tells her that. Doesn't really hide it or stifle it: it goes through his mind and comes out his mouth.

"I know," he says quietly; he sounds miserable. "I know, Melantha. Just give me a little time, okay? I just need to kind of ... process. Right now I just can't really get over that for a while we were all together as close as can be and now you're getting farther away again. I know it's not really like that, I do, but that's how it feels and I'm just like... augh.

"Just give me some time. And then I'll help you build your own tinyhouse. Of course I will, you don't need to hire someone."

Melantha

It's the way he looks at her, like an animal who cannot grasp that Human Going Away! :[ will soon be Human Coming Back! :D or a child who is scared that this means forever, that she begins to understand a little better what he's going through.

But it's not just animals and children who feel that way. Adults like to think so, but it's not true. Those fears last for an entire lifetime.

It's also when het ells her for a while we were all together and now you're getting farther away again. She winces, and she pulls him back again, hugging him so that his face with its horrible, horrible breath is against her neck or her shoulder.

"I'm not going away-away, Erich," she says softly. "I'm not gonna pack up and leave you. I promise." Her hand smooths down the back of his crown, his neck, over and between his shoulders, starting to rub his back. "I promise I'm not leaving you. I don't want this so I can get away from you. I want this so I can be more myself." She turns her head, nuzzling him too, aching for him. "I want this so I can be closer to you, too. I don't want to feel like your sister or your roommate.

"But I'm not going away. And it'll be at least another month before we can start building anything. We have time."

Erich

"Okay," he says softly; doesn't sound quite convinced, no, but he does sound -- well. Hopeful. Like he wants to believe. "I know. I mean, I believe you. But it'll be nice to have a bit of time to get used to the idea too.

"I still like the idea of docking the tinyhouses," he adds. "I'm not like. Trying to force you to do anything. I can't, anyway. But you should think about it. I think it'd be awesome."

Melantha

"I'll look at designs," she says, not promising anything but that she is not leaving him and going away foreverandeverandever. "We'll make sure the porches can be all one big porch, at least. Cuz that would be fun."

Maybe when they do start looking at designs, she can explain to him her aversion to the docking part, the making it all one big house part. Maybe when he isn't holding onto her like she's gonna leave him. For now she just holds him, rubbing his back and nuzzling his skull. "Don't worry, Erich," she tells him softly, even though she knows he will. "It'll be okay. We have time."

Erich

It's almost like he's injured or small or sick, the way she holds him and rubs his back. It helps, though. Little by little he relaxes. He's not holding her so tight anymore. He's just sort of ... holding her normally, tenderly, breathing with her as the first, worst stab of shock-pain-ow begins to pass.

"That would be fun," he says quietly. "And maybe it'd be fun to have sleepovers at your place too." A little pause; a nuzzle back, gentle. "I'll try not to be so sad about it, okay? I'll try to be excited and happy, too."

Melantha

"Yeah," she says quietly, softly. "We will."

Her eyes close as she holds him, not rubbing his back to soothe him anymore but just holding him, hugging him, curling up with him under his blankets.

"I love you, Erich," she whispers. "I do. Don't forget."

Erich

His eyes close too. Independently, without realizing she has done the same, he closes his eyes: some howling animal behind his sternum calming at last.

"I love you," he answers. Promises: "And I won't forget."