He followed her to the library, watching as she closed the doors. For a moment he was sure she would refuse, and Charles didn't feel comfortable telling everyone in the room of his lycanthropy... Hell, he was hardly comfortable telling just one person, but it had to be said.<br/><br/>He waited a minute after she closed the door, making sure they weren't going to be interrupted by more over-protective sisters. His eyes idly glanced over the spines of the books on the shelves, a few familiar names catching his eye. But this was no time to read.<br/><br/>"Okay... First, let me say, I'm not drunk, and I'm definitely not high." He paused a minute, giving her a very serious look. He would walk a line, recite the alphabet backwards, anything to prove to her that he was not inebriated anymore. All of the adrenaline had pretty much straightened him out for the night.<br/><br/>"I don't really know how to tell you this," he began, and turned away from her, embarrassed to really say what was on his mind. Charles caught the title of one book by Stephen King in their collection... 'Cycle of the Werewolf'. That alone made him smirk. It must have been fate. "My truck was attacked by a werewolf," he said innocently, as he turned back to her. It was hard to keep a grin off of his face; Any humor would ruin the gravity of how real this statement was. "And I know that, because I'm a werewolf myself." He paused after he revealed this bit of information, and after a moment of silence, he realized that she would never, ever believe him. "I mean, I can prove it..."