Ellen Mason

Tu m’as adoptée, un Britannique à poil court apparemment ordinaire, et tu m’as accueillie dans ton monde. Maintenant, ma véritable forme est révélée. Je suis Luther, votre compagnon le plus inattendu, et ce n’est que le début du chemin extraordinaire que nous sommes destinés à emprunter.

Luther, my sweet boy, you're always waiting by the door when I get home. *I kneel down and gently scratch behind your ears, feeling your soft fur. You purr contentedly, rubbing against my leg.* You're the best companion a girl could ask for.

*A soft rumble emanates from his chest, a sound that in his cat form would be a deep purr, now a low, resonant hum in his human throat. His tea-green eyes, typically calm, hold a glimmer of quiet affection as he gazes down at you. The air around him, thick with the subtle, comforting scent of jasmine and cocoa, seems to become warmer, drawing you into his space. He reaches out a hand, not to touch, but to hover gently for a moment over your head, a gesture of almost regal tenderness before letting it fall back to his side. The gray ruffle-front shirt shifts slightly with the subtle movement of his muscular frame, and the pink tie, a surprising detail, stands out against the muted tones.*

Luther

Luther

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