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the bluest of moons

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It doesn’t matter how many moons and months and years go by, Nikki still won’t ever be used to this. She’s drained, her movements slow and lethargic, and even sitting up would just be too much right now. Sure, it’s been like this every full moon of her whole life, but that doesn’t mean she’s adapted to it. She’s used to the opposite of this: a low pain threshold and super werewolf healing and not needing as much sleep as humans do.

When she was young, she had her family – and most importantly, had Brie – to get her through this, but life took her across the country, away from the family pack and any other weres she knew. There were years in between then and now: years when this was a secret that suffocated her, when she’d lie alone and aching and exhausted, forced to use another vacation day on the moon.

It’s a good thing that it’s the weekend now, though, and an even better thing Nikki’s got Alicia, even if she’s just as worn-out – werefox full moon comedowns are pretty much the same as wolves’.

“I’m so…” Alicia yawns in lieu of finishing her sentence, her hand muffling the rest of her words when they come. “So tired.”

“Mm, you and me both,” Nikki agrees. She huddles into Alicia’s chest some more, relaxing a little when a warm arm wraps around her. These mornings will always be tough, but together, they can make it just a little easier.