these wings are made to fly

He felt as though, a part of him, were betraying whom he was, but that all came with the territory, didn't it? He would have to endure feeling as though he had given up a piece of him to be with her, and maybe, that was what would drive him to need her more and more with each passing day. Perhaps, he wasn't abandoning who he used to be, but handing it over to someone else. Forcing her to hold it so that he had to be with her to be who he truly was, such a thought made him inimitably pleased. A kiss draped over her shoulder, before he pulled back from her, pressing his rear against the ground, and maneuvering his tail around his paws. Head would turn to look at her, and he would stare in question, in almost hopefulness.

She had never been what he was looking for, and yet she was everything he wanted.

"Do you realize the levity of those words, Chrysanthe?" He hadn't really used her full name before, and to use it in such a way, laced in such sincerity and utter staidness, was quite interesting, quite bemusing to say the least. His blue eyes searched, eager to delve into her and find the answers he wanted. He wanted to know that she understood in acceptance of him there could be no others. Everyone else had become obsolete and irrelevant, and God so help the man that decided he wanted her in the way she belonged to him.