Emily awoke tangled in her sheets. It was the big day, and she honestly couldn't tell how well she'd slept. Her body was tense, taut as she sat up and brushed her unruly mane from her face. She was smelling everything, including herself, noticing that the musky canine scent was rather prominent on her that morning. She'd donned some sweats that fit loosely enough, and when she wandered out into the kitchen to feed the gnawing in her belly, her roommate had already departed for the library.
After satisfying her hunger a shower was definitely next on the agenda. She wasn't particularly planning on going anywhere today, but it couldn't hurt if she cleaned up a bit just so she wouldn't smell like Eau de Loup if she felt the need to step out into the hallways. The hot water felt heavenly streaming over her, and while it did ease some of her body's tension she couldn't quite get it all to go away. It was as if her body knew something was about to happen, and was anticipating it as much as she was.
She curled up on the couch in her bathrobe, her mane bound up in a towel as she once again turned on the television. It wasn't helping much. Her senses were working overtime, and something that was just a two-dimensional image with piped in sound just didn't seem quite as real as everything around her. She occasionally glanced at the clock as the afternoon wore on, wondering when her roommate would be back, praying it was before nightfall.
Eventually she doffed the towel, letting her hair hang free, but she shrugged at the notion of getting dressed just yet as she took to pacing in the bathrobe. She heard her toenails clicking on the linoleum as she did so, and every so often she heard a pop from one of her joints, a tiny tremor speaking of what was to come.
She finally received a distraction when a knock came at the door. She rushed to the peephole, and grinned broadly as she saw blue hair ringing the increasingly familiar visage of Leigh. Hurriedly she unlocked the door and yanked the poor punk girl in before shutting it.
"Damn, girl," Leigh teased, regaining her balance quickly, "if I'd known I'd get that enthusiastic a greeting, I'd have started doing this much sooner."
"Yeah, well I really didn't want the whole floor seeing me in a bathrobe," Emily laughed.
"Just me, huh?"
"Well... uh... that isn't..." Emily stammered, feeling a blush coming on.
"You know, I've got an old folk cure for stammering," Leigh quipped with a hint of a smile.
"Er, really?"
"Goes a little something like this..."
Leigh reached out her long-nailed fingers to grip the collar of Emily's robe, and pulled the girl into a sudden but not altogether unwelcome kiss. A kiss that, at the electric moment their lips met, Emily found herself rather inclined to return, hungrily deepening it as budding fangs were met by questing tongues. When they finally came up for air, Emily let out a long breath.
"...that's one hell of a cure."
"Isn't it though?"
"But why? Or rather, why now?"
"Timing is everything, and judging by last night I knew you'd chicken out again if I waited until after Cara got back."
"...huh," Emily said. Everything Leigh had just said made sense, but left her even more confused as to where she stood with the punk girl. Then, the other part of what Leigh said sunk in. "Oh, holy crap."
"What?"
"She's cutting it really close!"
Leigh face-palmed. "Emily, you did tell her, right?"
"Uhm... kinda-sorta."
"Close is for horseshoes and hand grenades. What did you tell her?"
"Well... not really anything. But she did say she'd be home before dark!"
Leigh groaned.