The Fight

I told her to leave. It was getting late. She wanted to stay. I told her she mustn't. She didn’t understand. I couldn’t explain. So, I got angry. Said if she didn’t leave, I’d leave her. She stormed out, just in time. My back bristled and cracked. My teeth grew sharp. I growled, prayed.
On the couch -- her purse!
I panicked, my consciousness slipping.
The door opened.
I expected her to scream. I prayed she'd run. Instead her back bristled and cracked. She howled, and smiled as her fangs grew.
We lunged, surrendering to the pain and embracing the pleasure.