I first met Wolfie at an aikido grading. As it turned out, he worked in the back offices of the same building that I trained in. He was of an average height, slim, with mousey-brown hair and blue eyes. I warmed to him almost immediately, I felt safe around him, comforted by him.and his being there. He was kind and funny- exactly my kind of human.
Two weeks later, I attended the village carol service. It was a cold, December evening and my first Christmas without my grandad. I felt melancholic and sad, but I decided to go, anyway. I stood at the back and watched, unwilling to take part.
“Elena!”, I heard a voice cry, it was Wolfie. He came over to me and stood with me to chat. We talked about his work,the grading and Kerry- his girlfriend, my best friend. It made sense for us to get to know each other, under the circumstances.
The following year, I started a small, voluntary job as a web designer for the dojo and ended up working alongside Wolfie. We talked, laughed and joked a lot and it became the office joke that we would end up dating each other. We denied it, of course, we were just friends – after all, Wolfie and my best friend were already in a relationship!
That September, I turned eighteen. By that time Wolfie had lost his job, I was no longer studying aikido and Wolfie and Kerry had split up. At the same time, Kerry and I were no longer really friends and she’d even tried to ditch me from her seventeenth. I’d already invited them both to my eighteenth birthday party as a couple and wanted so desperately for Woolfie to attend as my friend. When I him Wolfie climbing the stairs to the function room, I smiled. There was one person I’d really wanted to attend the party, one person I’d really wanted to be there – him, my new best friend.
At the party, my cousins thought we would make a great pair. Of course, each time they tried to get Wolfie and me to dance together, we’d smile, admit that it was awkward and part ways. Later in the evening, Wolfie tried to speak with Kerry to try and establish at least an amicable friendship. That upset my cousin and “T“, who was in the military, threatened to attack him while my other cousin threatened to attack Kerry. Knowing what “T” was capable of, my Mum quickly prevented him from reaching Wolfie and my uncle, his wife and my cousins were all forced to leave. To keep Wolfie safe, my Dad offered him a ride home, once we’d tidied up from the evening.
In the early hours of the following Sunday, Wolfie and I stood in my parents’ back garden with two glasses of prosecco and talked and laughed under the stars. We reminisced on the events of the evening when I admitted to Wolfie that after I’d given up alcohol for my ex-boyfriend, I wasn’t even sure if I even wanted to drink the wine.
“I’ll give you a kiss if you take a sip” he whispered softly.
I smiled and, with my eyes still locked on his, I willingly took my first sip of birthday prosecco.
Wolfie got the nickname “Ten Shades” as a subtle nod to the books and given his lack of wealth, equally kinky and sadly equally troubled history. Just like the fictional Anastasia Steele, I love Wolfie wholly, completely and unconditionally, regardless of his past. We have an equally kinky and equally beautiful true story and love for each other that we wanted to share with the world.