You can try to woo me all you want, but I won't give in to you that much.

[He will, however, give in enough to touch Felid's face, sliding his hands over his cheeks and up into his hair. It's soft. It makes his chest warm to feel it, to thread his fingers through that silky mane and imagine, somewhere deep down, that this is a person who really loves him and who is his to love back.

If only. Maybe in some other reality Felid's not a piece of shit, or Glen isn't cursed with a conscience, and it would work out. But this isn't that reality.]