Chapter 5
1649words
My heart softened, and I instinctively came to his defense. "Ethan, don't glare like that. You're scaring him."
The moment my words left my mouth, Ethan's tall frame suddenly went rigid.
I clearly saw something move slightly in his thick, meticulously groomed black hair. The movement was subtle, like something emerging from underground. Then, in the eerie silence, a fluffy, snow-white wolf ear suddenly "popped" out from between his hair strands.
That ear, as if possessing its own consciousness, twitched alertly after emerging, seemingly testing the surrounding air.
The air in the room completely froze.
Ethan's face visibly drained of color. He quickly raised his hand to cover his head and push that "traitor" back in, but it was too late. His other ear, seemingly encouraged and unwilling to be left out, emerged from the other side, trembling nervously with its owner's panic.
I stared in astonishment, my mouth forming an involuntary "O" shape. My gaze, like rusty gears grinding into motion, slowly moved downward to what was behind him.
Behind his well-tailored, expensive suit pants, an equally snow-white fluffy tail had broken through its last restraint due to its owner's intense emotions. It now curled uncomfortably behind him, only the very tip twitching slightly, betraying his nervous state.
I looked at the snow-white ears on his head, then at the fluffy tail behind him, and thought about the small wolf I'd just held—identical in every way except for size…
"Pfft…" I couldn't hold back and burst out laughing. I whistled loudly, breaking the strange, comical silence. "Well, can't hide it anymore, can you?"
Ethan's face changed from deathly pale to deep crimson. His lips trembled as he struggled to find an explanation. Finally, as if surrendering, he forced out a ridiculous statement through gritted teeth: "It's… it's a family hereditary… intermittent atavism phenomenon!"
"Atavism phenomenon?" I raised my eyebrows, deliberately putting on a serious face as I walked toward him slowly, step by step. My high heels made crisp "click, click" sounds on the floor, each step seeming to land directly on his frayed nerves.
I walked up to him, stopped, and looked up into his face. He towered over me by more than a head, but at this moment, those usually icy blue eyes were filled with helplessness and panic—like a large dog caught red-handed after raiding the trash.
"You've been deceiving me for so long," I said, deliberately stern-faced but keeping my voice low and husky. "Director Ethan, tell me—how should I punish you?"
Ethan looked at me cautiously, his Adam's apple bobbing once as he remained silent. The large tail behind him, however, betrayed him by swaying slightly from side to side with nervousness.
I reached out and, under his astonished gaze, gently poked at those soft-looking ears on top of his head that seemed irresistibly touchable.
His body trembled violently, those ears folding back flat against his head, and the blush on his face spread all the way down to his neck.
"Hmm, feels nice," I said with satisfaction, then delivered my verdict leisurely. "Your punishment shall be… wearing an apron and cooking for me for the rest of your life. How does that sound?"
In the end, under my gentle yet forceful insistence, Ethan—with an expression of near-heroic martyrdom but still maintaining his elegant posture—was personally fitted by me with a cartoon apron adorned with pink ruffles that I had specially selected.
His tall, straight figure paired with the ridiculous yet adorable apron, plus those wolf ears drooping in resignation and that fluffy tail tucked tightly between his legs in embarrassment… the extreme contrast was indescribably funny and… cute.
I leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching as he used those elegant, pianist-like hands to stiffly pick up a kitchen knife, then stare blankly at the carrots on the cutting board. I nearly cried with laughter.
Just as we were fooling around, the doorbell rang.
I ran to open the door. My friend Lily stood there with a plate of freshly baked cookies, smiling brightly. "Aurora, I baked some cookies for you…"
Her words died mid-sentence, her voice suddenly cutting off.
Her gaze traveled past my shoulder to the kitchen behind me. Her expression morphed from pleasant surprise to confusion, then to astonishment, and finally to complete shock.
I turned to follow her gaze.
Ethan had somehow reverted to his normal human form, but had obviously forgotten—or perhaps was too nervous—to fully retract the ears on his head and the tail behind him.
There he stood in that ridiculous pink apron, incongruously holding a gleaming kitchen knife while staring blankly at the carrots. Hearing the noise at the door, the snow-white wolf ears on his head instantly flattened in alarm, and his tail bristled up like a giant feather duster.
The scene was painfully awkward.
I rushed forward in one quick stride, grabbed Lily's shoulder—she had already frozen like a statue—and with forced enthusiasm, began steering her outside. "Oh, Lily! You caught us cosplaying! He's dressed as this new game character called… Wolf Chef! Right, honey?"
As I spoke, I gave Ethan's back a meaningful pat.
Ethan's entire body was rigid. Like a puppet following commands, he slowly and stiffly nodded his head.
Lily was completely stunned by the bizarre scene. She shoved the plate of cookies into my arms like a hot potato, mumbled something about "you… you guys enjoy yourselves," then practically fled, her feet barely touching the ground.
This farce finally concluded with a phone call from Ethan's mother.
On the phone, the lady with an incredibly gentle voice invited us—me and Ethan—to dinner in a tone that brooked no refusal.
Sitting in Ethan's brightly lit, palatial dining room, my palms sweated nervously. At the end of the long dining table sat a dignified, imposing middle-aged gentleman—clearly Ethan's father.
Yet Ethan's parents were infinitely more welcoming than I had imagined.
Ethan's mother, an elegantly maintained and graceful lady, warmly held my hand, beaming. "My dear, you must be Aurora! You're even prettier than your photos. Our Ethan has always been so stubborn and reserved since childhood—we worried constantly he'd never find a girlfriend. When he gets nervous, those ears and tail pop right out. We have no idea who he inherited that from."
Sitting beside her, methodically cutting his steak, Ethan's father immediately cleared his throat. "Nonsense. That's not a defect—it's a tactical advantage." He set down his cutlery and looked at me with pride. "When I was courting his mother, I deliberately transformed into a little wolf and 'accidentally' injured myself outside her dormitory. Pretended I couldn't walk. She was so concerned that she carried me straight back to her room."
"He wasn't injured at all," Ethan's mother laughed, exposing him. "He just got caught in the rain and looked like a pitiful, drenched puppy. A very cute drenched puppy, I must admit."
I turned to Ethan in shock. His expression suggested he was desperately wishing for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. So this "fake injury" trick was actually a family "courtship technique" passed down through generations.
After dinner, Ethan took me for a walk in their garden, which was the size of a small park.
Silver moonlight draped over the earth like a thin veil. The garden was filled with rare flowers I couldn't name, and the evening breeze carried waves of delicate fragrance.
We walked in silence for a while. Eventually, Ethan gathered his courage. He stopped, turned to face me, and those blue eyes—looking particularly deep in the moonlight—gazed at me earnestly.
"I'm sorry, Aurora," he said solemnly, with a barely detectable vulnerability in his voice. "I never meant to deceive you. I was just… afraid you'd think I was a monster. That you'd… hate me."
Looking at the cautious panic in his eyes, my heart softened. This man—so decisive and ruthless in the business world—now stood before me like a child who had done something wrong, waiting for my judgment.
I stopped walking, turned to face him, and reached out to caress his handsome face. The warmth of my touch made him tremble slightly. I could feel his soft wolf ears—which had quietly emerged again due to his nervousness—gently nuzzling against my fingertips with a hint of affection and dependency.
"I only think…" I looked into his eyes and said clearly, emphasizing each word, "that my little wolf is absolutely adorable."
What I like isn't just that cute, clingy little wolf. What I love even more is this awkward, genuine version of you—the one who can't hide his ears and tail because of something I say.
The uneasiness and panic in his eyes instantly transformed into overwhelming joy and tenderness. Unable to control his emotions any longer, he lowered his head and, with warm, slightly trembling lips, gently kissed me.
The moonlight was gentle, the evening breeze mild—everything was perfect.
Just as the mood was perfect and I was melting into his gentle kiss, a loud, deliberately disruptive cough came from the nearby bushes.
Adrian poked his head out from behind the foliage, a mischievous smile on his face. "Ahem! Get a room, you two! Mom and Dad are still having tea inside, and they were just wondering when they might get to cuddle some little wolf cubs!"
My face instantly flushed crimson—so red it felt like it might burst into flames—and I quickly pulled away from Ethan's embrace.
Beside me, Ethan's snow-white ears drooped in embarrassment, but the large tail behind him betrayed his true feelings by wagging uncontrollably with joy.
The evening breeze remained gentle, carrying with it the good-natured teasing of family and the undisguised happiness of my newfound love.
Indeed, everything was absolutely perfect.
