Alpha Faye

Chapter Thirty One

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Word Count: 3272

~Faye

I've approached many difficult situations in my time as Alpha, but none amount of this.

I'm standing at T's doorstep, hand at the ready to knock on the door. However, I'm hesitating. It's raining, but not a heavy kind of rain. It's drizzly, the sky is grey, as it almost perfectly reflects my mood.

I don't want to be here.

Come on Faye, you're an Alpha, and no curly headed, irritatingly attractive guy who likes to let his garden grow out. My hand brushes away a wander vine that grows on the paint stripped banister as emphasis. Attempting to muster up enough courage, I breathe in deeply, and knock on the door.

T appears at the door after three knocks. Odd. "Faye?"

He looks a little caught off guard, which I can't blame him for. I mean, it's early in the morning, and I assume he just woke up. His hair is wet, soaking curls framing his forehead, dripping down to his water soaked eyelashes. He has a towel draped around his hips, and he's look at me with frown lines etched into his face.

"I'm sorry for showing up like this. I know it's early," I excuse, taking a step backward, ready for his utter rejection.

I'm not here for that great of a reasoning. How do I say, you need to kiss me, and my virginity belongs to you. How is he even going to react? He will probably find it very amusing, that's for sure. Then he will conjure up a clever remark to make me never want to look at his face ever again.

"It's okay, I get up early anyways," he tells me, rubbing the back of his neck. Maybe true. His hair is wet from a shower.

"Can we talk?"

His frown only increases, as he steps outside, the porch creaking in protest. I watch him drag the door shut. He doesn't want me inside? I mean, I've seen all his paintings and mathematical equations.

"Sure, what about?" he asks, leaning against the exterior of his house.

"We might want to sit down for this," I tell him warily, imagining his reaction right now. "I'm not sure how you're going to feel about it."

Despite his confusions, he seems to oblige. "Oh uh, sure."

He cracks the door open, letting me inside first. It's surprising seeing how different the place is automatically. He's cleaned it. The paper, at least. It's all gone, swept into nowhere, almost like it's gone forever. I'm instantly wondering why.

"It doesn't seem like this is a very good time. I can come back later if you like," I say, watching the way he almost seems to pace, while I hang near the entrance to the door he clothes after me.

"It should be fine," he says.

I frown slightly. This isn't like the T I know, who is usually always in control. He looks anxious, as if he is waiting for something to happen.