Matthew's morning began with the usual mundane processes, jazzed up, of course, by a little magic to smooth things along. He had woken up early, as usual, at exactly 6AM to the confident buzzing of his incessant alarm clock, and had risen quickly to turn his shower on.
His shower ran cold water, to wake him up. It was almost icy in temperature, and struck his bare body like dozens of little blades of ice, and yet it was undeniably refreshing. At first, the water had stung his semi-conscious body, but now the water ran down his bare chest in steady rivulets along each contour, outlining his shape with lazy accuracy. Matthew sighed, and pushed his hair back, moving under the stream of frigid water to feel it strike his face for a moment before turning the temperature up to a more comfortable level. Steam soon fogged up his palatial bathroom, curling lethargically through the air in abstract spirals and clouding the mirrors and shuttered windows. Matthew sighed again, this time in soothed appreciation for the more pleasant feeling of hot replacing cold on his body.
But he knew that he'd spent a few minutes too many under the wet deluge, so reluctantly shut off the water completely and stepped out of the shower, not bothering to grab a towel as he moved from his bathroom to his adjoining bedroom, where his clothes were already laid out waiting for him. As he walked, Matthew appeared to mutter to himself for just a second, but the following second, the moisture from his body seemed simply to disappear, leaving him dry and clean. A small, rakish smirk ghosted across his lips; the use of magic for trivial tasks always seemed to amuse him.
Wandering over to the selection of waiting clothing, Matthew took his time, in a surprisingly good mood this morning. He began to dress without thinking, sliding on first his jeans and accompanying underwear as he contemplated his pleasant mood. It could have been because of the full night's sleep he had just enjoyed, unhindered by unpleasant dreams or disturbances. It could also be that he could feel, mostly, the content atmosphere in the house, and how surprisingly well the coming together of the pack had been. A full week had passed, and there had been minimal fighting, and that was something that Matthew was personally proud of his pack for.
As a sort of reward, Matthew had ordered breakfast for the entire house, which was why he had forbidden wolf transformations between nine and ten that morning - they really didn't need the delivery boy running home to tell everyone of the wolves that lived
in the forest. Which was why he muttered a reminder, one that he knew each conscious individual would receive. "Remember. No wolf transformations this morning between nine and ten. I've ordered a little something in," he told them, using his magic to ensure that everyone in the house would get his reminder. It wasn't classy, but it got the job done. Usually, when he had a message like this to give out, he would have the walls take on the words in fancy, spiralling letters, but he wasn't in the mood for his usual over the top gestures.
Matthew supposed that he should probably go down to make sure the kitchen was ready for his surprise, if there wasn't already someone in there. He didn't really mind if anyone had already eaten; he knew that being a lycan was hungry work and second breakfasts weren't really uncommon here, but it ocurred to him that he should probably go and remind Rey to keep her pack in check first. The delivery of hot, fresh croissants and pastries, bacon and eggs, mushrooms, fruit, yoghurt, and anything else the pack could possibly have wanted, wasn't to arrive for at least another forty five minutes yet, so they still had time to make sure that the pack were on their best behaviour.
He scooped up his shirt, and walked in his socks out of his room and along the hall to the place where Rey resided. At first, he had disliked the knowledge that she was just across the hall, but he'd gradually grown accustomed to the idea of having her so close. He knocked on her door and called in, "Rey? Are you up? You coming down for breakfast?" though the last words were muffled by his shirt as he tugged the plain white tee over his head.
His shower ran cold water, to wake him up. It was almost icy in temperature, and struck his bare body like dozens of little blades of ice, and yet it was undeniably refreshing. At first, the water had stung his semi-conscious body, but now the water ran down his bare chest in steady rivulets along each contour, outlining his shape with lazy accuracy. Matthew sighed, and pushed his hair back, moving under the stream of frigid water to feel it strike his face for a moment before turning the temperature up to a more comfortable level. Steam soon fogged up his palatial bathroom, curling lethargically through the air in abstract spirals and clouding the mirrors and shuttered windows. Matthew sighed again, this time in soothed appreciation for the more pleasant feeling of hot replacing cold on his body.
But he knew that he'd spent a few minutes too many under the wet deluge, so reluctantly shut off the water completely and stepped out of the shower, not bothering to grab a towel as he moved from his bathroom to his adjoining bedroom, where his clothes were already laid out waiting for him. As he walked, Matthew appeared to mutter to himself for just a second, but the following second, the moisture from his body seemed simply to disappear, leaving him dry and clean. A small, rakish smirk ghosted across his lips; the use of magic for trivial tasks always seemed to amuse him.
Wandering over to the selection of waiting clothing, Matthew took his time, in a surprisingly good mood this morning. He began to dress without thinking, sliding on first his jeans and accompanying underwear as he contemplated his pleasant mood. It could have been because of the full night's sleep he had just enjoyed, unhindered by unpleasant dreams or disturbances. It could also be that he could feel, mostly, the content atmosphere in the house, and how surprisingly well the coming together of the pack had been. A full week had passed, and there had been minimal fighting, and that was something that Matthew was personally proud of his pack for.
As a sort of reward, Matthew had ordered breakfast for the entire house, which was why he had forbidden wolf transformations between nine and ten that morning - they really didn't need the delivery boy running home to tell everyone of the wolves that lived
in the forest. Which was why he muttered a reminder, one that he knew each conscious individual would receive. "Remember. No wolf transformations this morning between nine and ten. I've ordered a little something in," he told them, using his magic to ensure that everyone in the house would get his reminder. It wasn't classy, but it got the job done. Usually, when he had a message like this to give out, he would have the walls take on the words in fancy, spiralling letters, but he wasn't in the mood for his usual over the top gestures.
Matthew supposed that he should probably go down to make sure the kitchen was ready for his surprise, if there wasn't already someone in there. He didn't really mind if anyone had already eaten; he knew that being a lycan was hungry work and second breakfasts weren't really uncommon here, but it ocurred to him that he should probably go and remind Rey to keep her pack in check first. The delivery of hot, fresh croissants and pastries, bacon and eggs, mushrooms, fruit, yoghurt, and anything else the pack could possibly have wanted, wasn't to arrive for at least another forty five minutes yet, so they still had time to make sure that the pack were on their best behaviour.
He scooped up his shirt, and walked in his socks out of his room and along the hall to the place where Rey resided. At first, he had disliked the knowledge that she was just across the hall, but he'd gradually grown accustomed to the idea of having her so close. He knocked on her door and called in, "Rey? Are you up? You coming down for breakfast?" though the last words were muffled by his shirt as he tugged the plain white tee over his head.