Kyva rose abruptly, lifting Snowpuff from her lap and setting him upon the bed.
"I need to wash," she said, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. Then her tone softened as she looked at him, raising a single finger in mild warning. "Stay here, and try to behave yourself for once. Can you manage that?"
Calhoun's small paws curled inward, his claws pricking faintly against his own pads.
He was seconds away from snapping at her hand, just enough to remind her that he was no docile creature to be ordered about so carelessly.
But then— she smiled.
Even in her disheveled state, there was something unearthly in it, soft and luminous. It struck him with far more force than it had any right to.
He found himself staring.
Why was it that her beauty seemed to deepen in such moments? Why did it grow all the more unbearable when that smile was turned toward him, as though it belonged to him alone?
