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Forever in your eyes. A Valentine Story

 
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Tearlach
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Joined: 04 Oct 2008
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PostPosted: Sun Feb 17, 2013 8:04 am    Post subject: Forever in your eyes. A Valentine Story Reply with quote

Forever in your eyes


Scotland. 14th Feb 20...
LI Meng Long stood before the mirror in his hotel room and pulled on a pale blue silk shirt over his head and pulled out his waist length single hair braid from underneath it, letting it drop to rest just above his tail. Smoothing the shirt down the artic wolf tucked it into the waist band of his black leather pantaloons, which in turn were tucked in to the pair of black leather calf length boots he was wearing. His jade green eyes regarded his reflection coolly. The shirt matched his hair perfectly, though his white fur was still slightly “fluffy” after his bath despite brushing. Self-consciously he rubbed a paw over the six jieba or dots on his forehead which was all that was left of his summer coat. While he had dated before this occasion was very special for him and he wanted it to be perfect. Satisfied with his appearance Li Meng Long picked up the gifts he had bought earlier in the day from the bed and left for his rendezvous.
Within the hour Li Meng Long was driving through the large village of Dunkeld in a rented 4X4, listening intently to the Sat-navy’s voice. "Next Right" It said in a feminine monotone. As he did as he was instructed, the Artic Wolf shifted his muscular frame in the driving seat, at six feet, one inch he was tall even for an Artic wolf. It had be a long and uncomfortable drive from the hotel in Perth, but the chance to see Beibhinn again, the vixen he had met in Japan the year before was more than worth it. He noted the rapidly darkening skies. It was still another hour or so before sunset, but the gathering storm clouds had already forced the weak February sun from the day and a rain laden night stood posed to take its place. Meng Long risked a glance from the road ahead to the passenger seat beside him, at the dozen red roses and heart-shaped box of Belgium chocolates that lay there. It seemed rather predictable to his way of thinking, but he had been assured by the she-wolf sales assistant in the shop that it was the romantic thing to do and that she wished she was the lucky girl who was to receive them.
It was four months since they had first met, quite by accident, in japan and they had spent the rest of their brief visit together, by the end of the first week he knew he had fallen in love with her. When the time came to finally part, Meng Long was heart-broken. He had wanted to declare his love for Beibhinn to hold her in his arms and never be parted. Yet Beibhinn had never given any sign as to how she felt about him other than the friendship that had formed between them. She had left for Scotland and home, with promises to keep in touch. Every text and e-mail he had received made his heart jump. When he had received a phone call asking him to join her for dinner on Valentine’s Day he had taken the first available flight. Now he was approaching her home, the 4X4’s headlights pick out the large granite built farmhouse as he turned in to the drive. Pulling up outside, opposite the front door he could see a soft warm glow coming from the ground floor windows. Meng Longs heart was beating very quickly now, he took a moment and used his training to slow it back down to a more sedate pace. Once more under control he opened the driver door and got out, leaning back in to the car he pick up the roses and chocolates. He closed the car door quietly and locking it made his way to the front door of the farm house. Lifting the large brass knocker he brought it down twice and listened as footsteps from within drew near. The door opened and Beibhinn stood framed in the door way, the light he had seen coming from the windows created a halo about her.
Beibhinn was a red fox vixen; however she was also an albino, her fur and hair, was purest white and her eyes blood red rather than green or brown. Due to this condition Beibhinn’s eye sight was a little poor and so she had to wear a pair of glasses to correct it. But in Li Meng Long’s mind the glasses only added to her beauty and charm. The vixen was dressed in a simple ankle-length black party dress, pulled in at the waist by a small silver buckle of Celtic design and split to the thigh on both sides to revel a glimpse of pale gray stocking top, black stiletto heeled shoes completed the outfit. Her hair was plaited in a short length either side of her face, just before her ears and the rest of her long snow white tresses flowed like an avalanche across her shoulders and down her back. Beibhinn’s pink nose twitched as the Artic wolf’s scent reached it, smiling in recognition, her left paw reached up to her hair plait and pulled at it shyly. “Marc.” she said using the name that Li Meng Long preferred westerners to use. “It was very kind of you to accept my invitation” Her soft Scottish accent was like a gentle waterfall. ‘Marc’ bowed his head. “It is a great honor you have bestowed upon me!” He replied formally. Still tugging at her hair Beibhinn made a gesture of welcome with her right paw. “Please come in. Dinner is almost ready.” The vixen stepped aside and Marc stepped over the threshold and in to the long hall way beyond.

As Marc passed Beibhinn he caught her own scent, a delicious combination of Jasmine and musk. It left him feeling both aroused and afraid of his feelings. He made his way in to the sitting room and waited for Beibhinn to join him. Looking around the room he saw that almost every wall consisted of book and display cases and every one filled with books and curios. As Beibhinn came back into the room Marc held out his gifts. “I bought these for you, Happy Valentine’s day, Beibhinn."
Beibhinn smiled. “Why thank you Marc. That’s very thoughtful of you.” The vixen kissed him chastely on the cheek and took the roses and chocolates from him. She raised the roses to her nose and took in their fragrance. “They are beautiful. I put them in some water. Please make yourself a home.”
As she left the room Marc took another look around the room. He found himself drawn to a large alcove between the fire place and the window. In the alcove was a large writing desk and upon the desk two silver photo frames, one either side of the leather writing pad. The one on the left contained a picture of both him and Beibhinn, their arms around each other’s waists, smiling at the camera and using their free paws to flip ‘v’ peace signs. Marc smiled at the memories it brought back. He looked at the second frame and frowned. Putting down the first frame he picked up the one that was sitting on the right hand side of the desk. It showed a handsome middle aged red fox, with a white streak down the middle of his brown hair. Though the fox’s expression was rather neutral, the eyes showed love and kindndness.
A soft thump caused the Artic wolf’s ears to twitch and he turned round to see Beibhinn placing the roses, now in a crystal vase, upon the small table next to the Chesterfield sofa. Her red eyes washed over him as he stood there with the frame in his paws. Beibhinn walked slowly over to him and gently took the frame from him and looked sadly, yet lovingly at the photo within.
“Your father?” Marc inquired. “No” came the whispered reply. Beibhinn stroked the photograph with the tips of her fingers “Just a very good friend.
A feeling of jealousy came over Marc as realized that he may have a rival for the vixen’s affection and love. Beibhinn must have felt the change in the wolf’s mood, because she looked up at him and smiled. She put the frame back in its place upon the desk and reached up and stroked his shoulder. “Come into the dining room dinner is ready.”

Part two:
A feeling of jealousy came over Marc as realized that he may have a rival for the vixen’s affection and love. Beibhinn must have felt the change in the wolf’s mood, because she looked up at him and smiled. She put the frame back in its place upon the desk and reached up and stroked his shoulder. “Come into the dining room dinner is ready.” Marc followed her in to the next room. The only light in the room came from a three stemmed candelabra set in the middle of a round table, covered in a white table cloth and set out with cutlery, plates and champagne glasses for two people. A bottle of champagne stood in an ice bucket and stand, chilling. Marc pulled out a chair for Beibhinn and slid it back as she sat down and then sat down opposite her at the table. Already on the table were small, almost translucent porcelain tureen and a plate of plain crackers. “Would you open the champagne please Marc?” Beibhinn said. Marc reached over and pulled the bottle from the ice bucket. As he un-wrapped the foil from the neck of the bottle he read the label ‘Dom Perignon 1985. Not being a connoisseur of wines he assumed that Beibhinn would have chosen only the best. Removing the cage from around the cork, he gripped the bottle neck with his left paw and covering the cork with his right slowly twisted the cork out of the bottle. The slight pop caught them both by surprise and Beibhinn put both her paws to her muzzle to suppress her laughter. Marc poured the champagne into the glasses and they both raised them in a toast. “To friendship” Beibhinn said and touched her glass against his and took a sip. “Indeed” Marc replied reluctantly “Friendship.” The wine was bitter-sweet on his tongue. He had so much he wanted to say, and yet he could not find the words, the courage to express his feelings. Beibhinn lifted the lid of the tureen, inside packed in ice were small black pearls. “Beluga caviar, I got it from a friend in the Russian Embassy.” She explained. Using a ‘mother of pearl’ spoon she placed a small amount of caviar on a cracker and offered it out to Marc. He in turn reached out to take it from her, but she withdrew it and said admonishingly. “Fingers.” And smiling held it out again. This time Marc lent forward and gently took the offered tidbit in his mouth. The rest of the meal passed like a dream for Marc, the conversation had sparkled like the wine and having finished, they moved back in to sitting room to drink delicious black coffee. Sitting on the sofa before the crackling fire, the conversation reached a natural lull. Beibhinn stared into the fire and Marc watched its reflection dance in her glasses. Suddenly there came a tremendous crash of thunder from outside and the soft pitter-patter of rain upon the window. Beibhinn put down her coffee cup and walked to the window. She took the curtain cord in her paw and paused. Looking out at the rain, she spoke. “I’ve always enjoyed the rain. There is something both lonely and comforting about it.” Marc put down his own coffee cup and joined her at the window. A flash of lighting lit up her face and for a moment he thought he saw a tear in her eye. He placed his arm around her shoulders in a gesture of comfort. Beibhinn turned her head towards him, thinking she was going to chastise him for such a bold move he opened his mouth to offer an apology. Instead Beibhinn reached up and put her paws on either side of his face and drawing him closer kissed him deeply on the mouth. His eyes widened and his ears flatted back against his head as Beibhinn’s tongue slipped between his teeth and stroked his own. Recovering from his initial astonishment he returned her kiss and slipped his paws down to her waist, pulling the vixen closer to him. Beibhinn’s paws came down and gently removed his own from her waist and pulled away from him. Marc was confused; he was now quite physically aching for her, his male hood pressing against the leather of his pantaloons. Beibhinn held one of his paws with one of her own and stroked his cheek with the other. “This way” She whispered and led him across the room and out to the hallway. They made their way up the stairs and along a small passage, stopping outside a large oak paneled door. As Beibhinn open the door Marc realized what she had intended for them both. He stopped on the threshold. “Beibhinn, I want this. I truly do, but…” His ears glowed red with embarrassment. “But this is my first time and...” Beibhinn placed a finger on the tip of his muzzle and hushed him. She spoke softly. “Och, my bonnie wolf. Do you remember when we first met I told you we should never chain ourselves to time! It has never more true than at this moment. The past is only memories and tomorrow belongs to no-one; there is only the here and now. She licked his nose and smiled “We will learn together.”










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