Emberwood gravity don't mean too much to me

Her own thoughts are plagued by the expectation that her love will turn away from her, that her mistake is too great to be overlooked this time. Her sobbing halts as the breath catches in her lungs, eyes still squeezed shut against hot, stinging tears. She can't make herself breathe again until she hears her name, an urgent whisper that forces her tear-reddened eyes open just in time to see Rosalie's swift approach. As quickly as she'd crumbled, her scattered pieces are swept up in the embrace of the only wolf she has ever loved more than her own life, her own freedom; the only one to leave such a void within her that she'd felt a part of her was missing.
And just like that, it isn't anymore.
She leans into the embrace, burying her muzzle in Rosalie's neck fur with reverent kisses. Her affection is fervent, almost desperate, tracing a path through her fur to linger at the base of her ear a few long moments before trailing back down her neck. It's been so long, she'd almost forgotten the feel of her lover's delicate body, the sweet perfume of her fur, but now she soaks in the sensations as if starved for them. Rosalie, She murmurs into her fur between kisses, voice thick with emotion, and presses closer. There is no sense of closure yet, no certainty to be had about where they stand or about their future together — but it doesn't matter. Not right now. Rosalie is here.