You sigh again and cuddle closer. Sweet, perfect Fenrir, who doesn't mind if you get gross snotty tears all over his fur when you can't keep it together any more (it all falls off when he dematerializes anyway). You don't know want to think about what you'd do without him. You haven't had any nightmares so far, and maybe that's because you're a natural-born badass, but maybe it's because you're so undeniably warm and safe sleeping next to a giant wolf.
Poor Fenrir though. You have him, but all he has is you. What have you done to deserve him lately? Less than nothing, because you're making him unhappy by visibly hurting. Wouldn't he be better off without you? A thought occurs to you as you consider the question. A terrible thought that you'd normally dismiss out of hand, but... it's all ruined anyway, isn't it? What does it matter anymore? If not him, then who?
You lie there for a while, letting the idea bounce back and forth through your head. Perhaps it's not so terrible after all.
"Hey," you whisper to Fenrir. He doesn't open his eyes, or move at all beyond twitching one ear in your direction. But you can tell that he's fully alert, hanging on to your every word. Because you are the center of his universe.
