Seeing his face shift makes her eyes widen a little more, but only because of that very reason: she has no frame of reference for this. All she has is this simple, sweeping, deadly certainty as she looks into that monstrous, beautiful face...
She touches him this time, reaching up to frame his face between her hands. She runs her fingers through the thick, bristly hair that runs down the sides of his jaw, sweeps her hand up to caress the bulge of his distended brow, then lets her fingers glide down the edge of one pointed ear.
And all the while, she's transfixed by those wild red eyes, a look of pure enchantment on her face.
There you are. That's where you've been hiding this whole time. That's why I didn't know you.
She smiles at the thought, then after a moment frames his face between her hands and leans in to kiss him. The press of his fangs isn't shocking, but welcome as she deepens it a little, thumbs straying to caress his cheeks, to pet those overgrown sideburns.
She has no real memory of the boy. Why would she? She never met him...he was already a werewolf when he handed her that pen on that first perfect day.
The memories aren't there yet, nothing save for that stupid pen, but for the first time she recognizes him. When he changes back, she'll be able to see the spark of power, the fangs and fur beneath his skin.
She won't be terrified by being in love with him anymore, because at long last, she finally knows him.