It Started With a Scent

Five O'Clock

Dazed and confused.

She was dazed and confused.

Startled even.

When she had gone to sign off from her shift on Tuesday afternoon, grabbing her thick, woolen coat from her hanger and shouting a goodbye to Joe, the last thing she expected, was to be stopped by a silver haired man who put his hand out to get her attention by the front doors.

"Are you looking for Tina?" She asked, thinking that he had come to the diner looking for his pack mate. "Sorry, she's not working today." 

She walked side by side with him, through the sliding double doors and into the cold, winter sun.

"I never got your name the other day." He said, holding his hand out for her to shake.

She tentatively shook it. "Rachael," she told him, "is there something I can help with?"

He gave a dashing smile and if Rachael wasn't already bonded to a certain brown eyed friend of his, she would have been melting where she stood. He had a lovely smile, warm and inviting and rugged and manly, one front tooth chipped like he had fought with a metal beam and lost.

She took the opportunity to study him now that she was up close. The roots of his silver hair were a dark brown, locks curling up at the end behind his ear. His eyes, an interesting shade of green, unwavering as he stared at her. He had faint lines around his mouth and eyes, propelling her into thinking that he was older than she initially thought. She would guess early thirties at most.

"Rachael, nice name by the way, I'm Silver."

It also didn't escape her notice that he was filled with a particular type of assurance in himself, acting exactly how society said an alpha should be. 

Unapologetic. 

Confident.

He didn't start off by saying: 'Sorry, I know this is weird but...' or, 'If you don't mind, could I...?' or even,'I apologise, do you have a second?'

The things others would have said in a subconscious attempt to stay polite. He didn't feel the need to uptalk or habitually apologise like she would in such a situation.

In the end, she figured there was no point in comparing herself to him. They were two totally different dynamics.

"Nice to meet you." She replied, wondering why he was asking for her name, of all things.

"First, I do have to say sorry for my friend's behaviour yesterday- and the other week," he said, looking more bored than apologetic, "I hope you didn't take it personally. Jason's a good guy, really."

"Uh..." She sputtered, searching for the right words. "Of course not. It's fine. I'm fine."

"Good, good." The smile came back to Silver's face. "This isn't do with him though. You don't remember me, and I couldn't place your face at first, but you came to one of our pack parties a few years ago, didn't you?"

"Yeah," she said, relaxing as the subject of Jason passed. "One or two of them."

"Ah!" He winked. "Well, I'm having a little get together tonight with some of guys from the pack- Tina and Graham too- and was wondering if you'd want to join? Since you don't have one."

Rachael reared back, disbelief on her face. "I do have a pack. Back in the city where I used to live before."

Silver looked confused, "you smell packless to me," was his comment as he lifted his hands in a placating gesture.

The wind slapping her face didn't help to dry up the tears that smarted in her eyes. "Are you sure?" She questioned, a pleading note to her voice.

There was a certain scent that came with those who were part of a healthy, thriving pack, it was bonfire and marshmallow and warmth. Had it been that long that she'd lost it? She'd always believed that her pack bond was so strong that it would never break unless she wanted it gone. She had lasted for so many years, keeping in contact although she was living hours away. Obviously it hadn't been enough.

She was going to have to go back and reestablish it. 

It wasn't right- being alone.

Silver had the nerve to look on edge when the sad smell of her upset reached his nose and he shifted on his feet- the first sign of nerves she had seen- before patting his hand awkwardly on her shoulder in what he thought was a comforting gesture.

"Yeah, you don't want to hear this but you smell like lone wolf to me." He removed his hand from her and shrugged. "Do you need me to...?"

He hovered near her as if he was thinking about offering her a hug or, God forbid, putting his hand on the nape of her neck to saturate her with his strange alpha pheromones as an attempt to comfort her.

"No. No, I'm fine," she mumbled, shifting from foot to foot. "It's easily fixable." The tips of her fingers and ears were starting to hurt.

"You're welcome to come and join," he told her, referring back to his earlier offer. She wasn't sure if there was a double meaning behind the word join. Even if there was, she wouldn't be accepting the latter inference. "It starts at five and I live about ten minutes from here."

Rachael pulled out her phone and looked at the time. It was coming up to four fifteen. "Oh," she said. "It would be a bit difficult for me to go home and then get to yours in time."

He gave a quick shrug. "You could come straight to my house now if you wanted. My car's just there," he pointed down the road at a red jeep.

Rachael thought about it. She wasn't completely comfortable getting in the car of an alpha she'd only officially known for a couple minutes, nor going to his house alone. At the same time, she longed for the company. Her apartment was too empty and now that she didn't even have a pack bond, she didn't know if she could bare to be by herself.

Silver recognised her silence as an admission of uncertainty. "A couple of my friends are already there. An omega too," he told her, "you don't have to come but I'd love to have you there."

She nodded briskly, ready to get out of the cold, her tolerance finally having been exhausted. "Okay sure," she agreed and started following him to his car, "thanks for inviting me. I appreciate it."