Day three into your self-isolation and you were beginning to crack. There was only so much TV you could watch, only so many books you could read. You were pretty sure you were carving out a path in the hallway from all the pacing you were doing. But this was the only solution you could come up with that guaranteed that you weren’t going accidentally run into Chanyeol again.

You scoffed. Chanyeol. What kind of name was that?

Now you just laughed at yourself. Was that really where you ended up? Making fun of his name just to be as bitter as possible? You really were losing it.

Mom had warned you about this. She always told you that your chances of being mated were even greater since your father was a wolf. The idea had left a bitter taste in your mouth.

When you were seven, you developed your first crush. Looking back, you weren’t entirely sure what it was that you saw in Lupe. He was built like a stick, a year or two older than you, and had bunny-like front teeth. But you were starry-eyed for him anyway.

He was one of the few pups that was actually nice to your brother – not teasing him or bullying him for his slow growth and small frame – and maybe that was why you liked him so much. To your naive eyes, he was pure sunshine. You followed him around a lot, but he never seemed to mind. In fact, one could stretch it out that he was your first kiss.

Okay, it was on the cheek. And it was a bit too slobbery. But that didn’t stop your mother from freaking out when she caught you.

Before she sat you down, you thought that everyone fell in love like the movies. You thought two people simply met and that was it. And for a lot people – for most normal people – it was. But for wolves? It was much more complicated. Call it genes or magic or whatever other bull you’d like, something else decided who the wolves ended up with.

Your mother explained to you that it would be best not to develop feelings for Lupe or any other wolf because chances were he was already destined for someone else. The last thing she wanted was for your heart to get broken. You’d asked your mother if it could be you that he was supposed to be mated with since you both liked each other. That’s when the next pesky little bit of information was given to you.

Wolves didn’t feel the pull of their mates until after they’d had their first transformation. Until that time came, they were ordinary little kids, down to their very DNA. They could be sitting right next to their mate and they would never even know.

Reality made your first crush crumble into pieces. From then on, you didn’t get crushes on wolf pups; you didn’t pay attention to any of the packs kids your age in that way. Perhaps that’s the time you could really pin point as the start of your downward spiral from rainbows and unicorns to rainy days and alternative rock.

Deciding to drown out the memories, you searched for your headphones in the piles of dirty clothes you desperately needed to wash. You pulled out all the pockets of your jeans, searched the inside of your jacket, and even tore your bed apart looking for them. No headphones to be found.

In an attempt to retrace your steps, you tried to remember the last time you had used them. It had been after you ran into Chanyeol. Those pants weren’t in your dirty clothes pile currently resting on your bedroom floor. Last night you had done a load of Lon’s clothes and threw in some items of your own.

Crap!

Hopping up to your feet you ran to the laundry room.

“No, no, no, please, no.”

Throwing open the lid to the washer, you nearly cried. In the swishing back and forth motion of the washer, your cheap white headphones had fallen out of the pocket on your jeans and tangled themselves up around the cylinder in the middle. No matter how much you tugged and pulled and tried to undo the damage, you just couldn’t get them free.

With a small whimper you went to the kitchen, snatching the scissors off the knife block, and went back to the washer, painfully cutting up your one source of blocking out the world.

At this point, you didn’t really have a choice. Even if you gave up on the idea of listening to music right now, there would come a time down the road that you would need to escape again, whether that day was tomorrow or next week. It was just a risk you had to take.

In your explorations, you’d passed a small, out of the way music store. Just a quick run in and run out and back to the apartment. You could do this. The odds of running into him were slim. Picking up you jacket, you slipped it on and pulled up the hood so most of your face was covered. You locked the door behind you, heading out into the danger zone.

The music store was a good fifteen minute walk from your apartment. A slight drizzle had begun to fall from the blanket of clouds up above, covering your arms and shoulders in miniscule droplets of water that gave you a hazy outline. Just like you hoped, you made to the store it without running into any unwanted acquaintances. Pushing back your hood, you gave a polite nod to the guy behind the counter as you stepped inside. In turn he gave you a barely-there nod back before dropping his eyes down once again at the magazine he was holding.

It was quick work finding the headphones section. Your hand immediately reached for the cheap pair and then stopped. Lon wouldn’t get too mad if you went ahead and bought a slightly better pair, right? If he did get mad, all you had to do was give him the sob story of your poor headphones and your own pair of puppy dogs eyes. He wouldn’t be able to resist.

So, with a gleeful grin, you snatched up the black ones marked at a slightly higher price.

Outside, the rain had picked up.  Heavy drops pounded on the roof, filling the otherwise peaceful store. Instrumentals played softly in the background as you wandered around the store, trying to ignore the price tags hanging off the strings of the guitars while waiting off the rain. You didn’t know how to play that particular music maker, but you’d always wanted to learn. That would certainly be a good way to occupy your days.

But before you ever thought about buying a guitar, there was one little instrument you needed first. Except, it wasn’t exactly little.

Way in the back was the section for the pianos and keyboards. Double checking that no one else was in the store – save the employee – you found out which keyboard was plugged in for test playing. Slipping the headphones into your pocket for safe keeping, you reached out to the piano with anticipating fingers. The first few notes were hesitant, unsure.

It’d been years since you’d even been near a piano. Before that, your mother had you taking lessons since you were five. You found it funny, how you hated every second of those lessons, being told to sit up straight, to play the same few notes over and over again. But when you were alone, when it was only you and the keys, you loved the sound that filled the air just by the simple action of pressing down. The notes that became bars and the bars that became songs.

To say you were rusty would be a bit of an understatement, but there some memories that the muscles could never forget.

With each reverberating sound, you became more confident until you were standing right in front of the keyboard, both hands dancing across the keys in line with a tune you had written long ago. It was a simple song, nothing too extraordinary, but everyone had to start somewhere, right?

“Wow.”

The sudden appraisal made you jump. Whirling around, you cursed silently to yourself.

Chanyeol – the one person you were avoiding and were so sure wouldn’t coincidentally run into – was standing just a few feet away, staring at you in awe.

“You play really well,” he complimented, his lopsided smile shining at you.

At his encouraging words, your heart started its stupid drumming routine, as if you actually cared what he thought about your piano skills.

Rolling your eyes, you marched past him, but he caught your hand in his, holding you tightly in place.

“Please, don’t go,” he whispered. His eyes were desperate. You knew exactly what he was going through. You’d witnessed the process before. It was a physical fight within himself, an actual pain that manifested in his chest the longer he was away from you.

But you looked after yourself and your brother. That was it. And right now, with his calloused hand gripping tight on your own, you were scared. You were absolutely terrified at how your body was reacting to him. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t your choice and yet you were stuck with it. That didn’t mean you had to follow it.

Yanking your hand away from his warm and comforting grasp, you hissed, “Stay away from me.”

“Please, just let–”

You ran. Out the doors and right past the alarms, sent off by the headphones in your pocket that you had completely forgotten about. The employee was fast, whipping out his phone and taking off after you. He was quick on his feet and caught up to you in a matter of seconds. With a bit of unnecessary force, he slammed you against the wall of the store.

“Yes, hello, I work at the Strings and Keys store off of Harry and I had someone trying to shoplift,” the employee told the operator on the phone.

“I wasn’t trying to steal,” you explained, although your plea fell on death ears. “It was an accident. Here.” You pulled the headphones out of your pocket and tried to hand them back to the employee, but he ignored you, listening instead to the person on the other line.

Chanyeol came running out of the store as well, keeping a bit of a distance as he watched your humiliation.

Within a matter of minutes, the police had arrived and in turn they called your brother was driven to the store by Kris. Wonderful. Who else would arrive for the show?

You stood leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest. It didn’t take a genius to tell that your brother was seething. At least the rain had stopped.

“What the hell happened?” Lon growled. Kris went over to stand with Chanyeol, whispering to him.

“I’m telling the truth!” you insisted, flickering your eyes back and forth between your brother and the cop. “I had every intention of paying for them. That was the only reason I was here. I just forgot that they were in my pocket.”

“Then why were you in such a hurry to leave?” the cop questioned.

“That’s my fault,” Chanyeol spoke up.

You groaned. You did not need a hero right now.

Chanyeol elaborated, “I was trying to talk to her, but I didn’t pay attention that she really didn’t want to talk, so she was running away from me, not because she was trying to steal.”

Letting out a sigh, the cop glanced at the employee and then to Lon.

“Is there any way I can pay for the headphones and avoid jail time for her?” Lon sounded desperate. The last thing you needed was a record and the last thing he needed was to pay for a lawyer and bail.

“I guess I can live with that,” the employee agreed. “It sounds like it really was an accident.”

“Thank you,” Kris nodded to him.

Lon and the employee exchanged money for the headphones that were unceremoniously thrown at you. The employee disappeared into the store and the cop drove off, no longer needed.

“Come on,” Lon ordered. “We’re going home.”

“No, Lon, go back to work,” you begged. “I’ll be fine. It won’t happen again.”

Your brother looked to his boss, unsure of what to do.

“Chanyeol will make sure she gets home safe,” Kris promised.

Hell no. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Just do it, (y/n),” Lon said, obviously exasperated with you.

Since when did he turn into the parental figure? You were in your twenties, you didn’t need to be treated like a kid.

The worried look in his eyes quickly made you change your mind, however. Maybe you could agree now and then tell Chanyeol to beat it once you were close enough home.

With a set jaw, you mumbled, “Fine.”

Lon ruffled your soaked hair before getting back into the car with Kris and driving off. Chanyeol stood near you, radiating with awkwardness, hands in his pockets and not quite looking at you.

Not saying a word, you marched off towards the direction of home.

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol said after a few nice minutes of silence.

“Just forget about it and leave me alone,” you snapped. “I can find my own way home.”

Chanyeol ducked his head sheepishly. “I can’t. I have make sure you get home.”

“Nope, I’m pretty sure you can just walk on in the opposite direction. It’s pretty easy.”

Uncomfortable with the idea was doing just that, Chanyeol scratched the back of his scalp. His next sentence came out low, like it was meant more for himself than you. “I can’t really go against orders–”

Ugh! “Screw you wolves and your orders!” you yelled, whirling on him.

Chanyeol’s already big eyes grew even more, staring at you in shock. “Y-you know… about wolves?”

. That was a big, stupid mistake. One that you couldn’t exactly find a nice cover up for.

You threw your hands in the air. “Yes, I do.”

He blinked. “How?”

“None of your business.” Turning back towards home, you marched off.

“Wait, wait!” Chanyeol easily overtook you, blocking your path while stopping you with a hand on each of your shoulders. He sniffed the air a few times. “Are you a wolf? You don’t smell like one.”

You shoved his hands away from you. “No, I’m not, but thanks for pointing out that little insecurity.”

Growing up, you were the only girl among the pack offspring. As kids, it wasn’t that big of a deal, but as the boys started hitting puberty, you were quickly left behind as they went out on runs and learned to control the shift. Back then, all you wanted was to be a wolf, too. Now? You were damn thankful you didn’t get landed with that particular gene. Most of the time.

When your brother went out for his runs, that was when the envy crept up again. You wished that you could with him. What did feel like to turn from man to wolf and run through the trees with the wind in your fur?

Lon always said it felt like freedom. Freedom manifested into something actually tangible. Where could you ever find something like that?

Chanyeol nodded. “Of course you’re not. There’s not girl wolves.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, there are. They’re just extremely rare.”

“Oh.” His cheeks actually started to turn red from embarrassment.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you those kinds of things?” you asked a bit harshly. Wolf life and lineage was basically the only things your parents ever taught you.

Chanyeol deflated, his shoulders slumping low as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked down at the concrete. “They died when I was little. Hunters.”

Way to go, (y/n). “Oh. I’m… sorry.”

Glancing back up at you, he put on a fake show of being okay; one that you knew all too well. “It’s fine. Come on. Let’s get you home.”

You still didn’t want him following you home and knowing where your apartment was located, but now you didn’t have the heart to yell at him to go away.

The two of you walked in silence for the rest of the way. It wasn’t the comfortable kind of silence you wished it was. There was too much tension in the air. What type exactly, you didn’t really want to think about.

At your door, you stuck the key in the lock and turned to Chanyeol. “Well, this is it.”

Nodding, it was painfully obvious that Chanyeol didn’t want to walk away.

“Good night,” you emphasized.

He was practically pouting. “Yeah, good night.”

You opened your door and Chanyeol started to head for the stairs.

Damn it. “Chanyeol, wait.”

He perked up at you calling his name. “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you said simply. “For telling them what happened earlier. Thank you.”

He smiled at you and the action set his eyes on fire. You almost smiled back. Almost.

Like it was actually a cool move, he said nothing as he descended the stairs back to the parking lot below.

Inside your apartment, you headed straight for the kitchen. The amount of trouble you were in with your brother could only be pacified if you made him his favorite meal. And you happened to be an expert at it.

Everything was ready by the time Lon walked in through the door. He sniffed the air several times as he took off his work boots. But where you expected a smile and warm greeting, he simply frowned down at the table.

“Is this your way of buttering me up?”

Your own grin slipped from your face. “It was meant to be an apology for worrying you.”

Lon shook his head. “You’d been doing such a great job of staying out of trouble lately.”

“I have never gotten the cops called on me before,” you reminded him. Sure, you’d gotten trouble in your last year of high school and then had a few close calls, but you’d never been that close of actually going to jail. “And I told you it was just an accident. I seriously forgot they were in my pocket it in the first place.”

“Why did you even need a new pair of headphones?” he asked. “You have a perfectly good set here.”

You explained, “Because I accidentally washed them and they got so tangle up in the little agitator thingy that I had to cut them out.”

Groaning, Lon ran a hand down his face. “You should have just texted me and I would have picked some up on the way home.”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” you countered. “Hell, I take care you most of the time.”

“And it’s about time that changed!” Lon shouted. “I’m the older brother, I’m supposed to be taking care of you!”

“Well, you’re a little late on that,” you grumbled. Swiping up your already made plate, you started to leave the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

“To eat in my room,” you yelled over your shoulder. “I’m not up for the company at the table.”

Lon growled, but didn’t reply. You shut your door with a little too much force and sat down on the dingy carpet.

Your brother had never acted like that before. Did the incident really scare him that much? You hated fighting with him. But right now, you would let yourself be mad at him as you chewed on your food.