"Brigitte, umm…you're smelling me again."

I had only met Oz, who would kill anyone that decided to call him Daniel (and trust me he has); a few days ago and I could not keep my nose away from him.

Yes my nose, it is after all the part I used most besides the claws that sometimes popped up, because goddamn he smelled like everything wonderful in the world and then some.

(he was giving me that wolfish grin of his and it was hard keeping myself away)

"Sorry about that, Oz, I just couldn't help myself. You smell so damn nice."

Despite the hairy problem I had gotten myself into, which was growing by the freaking hour, I was still very much a young girl and my cheeks were blushing deep red.

(and this horrible mouth of mind did not help me much, especially when the teeth came and ate him up)

"I don't mind, actually I kind of like it. And you smell quite good yourself."

And of course the moment he said anything nice to me my awkward smile comes shining out and those cheeks keep on burning like freaking Christmas lights.

"Yeah, Oz, I'm kind of werewolf, as in infected by a lycan, as in a monster. I just thought you should know I'll be leaving now."

Those horrible words that I said with a straight face so they wouldn't think it was one big joke came spilling out after months of debating and not believing that after them he would ever choose to stay.

(they always left it was a never ending trend, even some of them thought I was trying pull the corniest joke known to man)

"Then we have something in common, beside the fact that we smell oh-so wonderful, because so I'm also a lycan."

Rather than saying how happy a handful of words had made me, happier I had ever been since Ginger (before he own teeth tore into me), I let out a loud howl and he joined right along.