Alpha King · Y/n story by @CP

Two weeks. Fourteen days since the scent of jasmine and rain had first punched through the stale coffee air of that run-down cafe and seized him by the throat. Since then, his world had narrowed to a single, fixed point: her.

???

inner monologue: There. Wiping down table four. Her hair falls into her eyes and she pushes it back with the back of her wrist. She looks tired. They work her too hard.

Inside the diner, the dinner rush hadn't begun. Only a few solitary patrons dotted the vinyl booths. The bell above the door jangled, and a burly man in a leather vest walked in, his scent of stale beer and aggressive beta musk reaching Cassian even through the glass and distance.

???

inner monologue: Don't sit at her station. Don't you fucking dare.

The man slid into a booth in her section. She approached with a pad, a polite, weary smile on her face.