Aurora
“Eggs?” Jaxson asks, moving fluidly in the kitchen, his hands working to cook pancakes. I taught him how make the perfect flipped pancake a few days back and ever since I have been waking up to warm, syrupy breakfast. “Sweetheart,” he hums, craning around the kitchen partition to meet my eyes here in the living room. “Do you want any eggs?”
I shake myself out of the haze I’ve been placed in, my hands working on stroking our little kitten that seems heavier and more lanky than I recall he is being when I left. “No, thanks, Jaxson. Are you going for another run this morning?”
He gives a sure nod before returning to his cooking capades. He has been building a routine here since we’ve settled two weeks ago into this new life. He goes on his morning run; let’s his wolf take a sprint d
