Sleeping Dragon Shackles around my wrists

Cirrus blanched at her words – she clearly thought he should have told Heda his birth name. Perhaps, he decided, he would simply be called Storm from now on. He had come to think of himself as Storm – it was only rare occasions like this when he returned to his original personality, to being Cirrus.
 
Lorne went on to speak with an urgency that buoyed his spirits up high – here was someone who truly appeared to care about him. Cirrus’s ears slowly lifted and he gazed at her with reverence and hope. When she moved to touch him, to tend his wound, his skin shivered unwittingly as though she were made of electric. He had not received any touch from anyone besides Lucani, and hers had been brusque and only concentrated on his leg, to apply dressings.
 
Cirrus stretched out his neck, his tense muscles relaxing in her presence, basking in her attention. Whether it was short-lived or not, it was the first time he had felt safe enough to let his guard down. Gone was the shrivelled Omega, returned was the solid four year old adult with knowledge of the world. “I won’t give up. I promise.” And though he was not sure whether he would survive this, he would keep to his promise, and he would try. Cirrus twisted his head until it hovered close to hers, and with the sudden closeness he noticed the intricate colours of her hairs, twining to make a single mass of colour from a distance.
 
“You’re kind.” His compliment was spoken in hushed tones, for he didn’t want to disturb the peace he suddenly felt. It was not all that he was thinking, but it was all that he dared to utter out loud.