n o v a (incomplete)

t h i r t y - n i n e

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t h i r t y - n i n e

The sound of the doorbell emanating through the walls of the cottage distracts the female currently slumped over a beanbag up in her loft. Her head turns with the noise, brows involuntarily drawing together in questioning. It's a glimpse to the attic windows, now dark and musty as tones of blue and grey paint together, and then to her clock. She bites down on her lower lip; it was much too early for dinner, let alone attend a meeting. The laptop propped open in her lap is closed, gently placed on the floor with the rest of her folders and sketches, all messily strewn everywhere.

The last couple of hours had been dedicated to her work; she had several online meetings and virtual calls with the clients that signed up to her, and now with first drafts completed, she was ready to see them in person. Her first visit was in three days and was about a two-hour drive away. She idly wonders whether she could talk the gamma into taking her there.

Her hand is drawn from the tabby currently keeping her company, a huff drawing from his throat with the lack of her affection, before following his mother on nimble paws, padding down the step ladder alongside her.

"Good evening," the husk of his tone is velvety, a warm flame flickering over his features as they settle upon the female hiding behind the bulk of the door, her neck stretching to peek.

Her eyes flicker up and down at the male adorning light sweats and a tee.

Mocha hues don't lift from the floor, her head tilted to one side, glasses slanting from the tip of her nose. The tabby weaving between her legs is merely disappointed with the Alpha's presence, taking a nonchalant leave with a tail lifted high.

"Hi," curling her feet with one another, fingers clasping the hinge of the door.

Her eyes narrow into an inked hand holding a woven basket, filled with an assortment of different delicacies and ingredients. She's met with a cheshire grin once looking up again.

"I thought we could do dinner here," the male's voice brims with confidence, chest puffed up.

The wolf only suggested this because he didn't think she'd be comfortable revisiting the same room, which caused her distress the night prior. At least, not tonight. They could attend the meeting being held after.

She raises her left brow, glasses pulled away with the tip of the arm resting against the mouth.

"We?" it's said after a few moments, ignoring the flush rising to her face. His eyes settle at her, unamused. Her lips tip up playfully, opening the door further ajar and turning from the visitor.

"Am I no longer going to be invited in?" and she only shrugs with her arms crossed, tossing her head back to him.

"It is your home. I don't see the need to be doing so," mocha hues are bright, watching him step in and remove his shoes.

They meet in the kitchen, the female standing at his side with her palms pressed into the counter, watching him unpack his basket, setting out the ingredients carefully. His movement is fluid, her eyes curving along the tautness of his muscles and the black that moves amidst his arms.

"Is there anything in particular you want? I'm open to suggestions," his voice is low, watching her carefully.

She leans over, resting her head in her palm, chocolate waves billowing around her slender frame. Mocha pupils slide up to him.