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The entire downstairs of the shop was lit with warm lighting and blessed with the bittersweet scent of coffee, a cheery momentum to keep the cold nights where they belonged: outside. Donovan was in the backroom, sketching lazily in his book when he heard the door to his shop jingle and quiet footsteps follow the sound. Usually, customers only came in this late because of awkward working hours, or just to book a tattoo in with him for a later date.
The Alpha stuck his pencil behind his ear and ducked into the shop’s entrance. At first, he didn’t spot the handsome Omega, tucked away in the corner there. He was buried by his clothes and had his head ducked down so far Donovan swore it much be hurting his neck. There was a thick book in his lap that Donovan recognised as one of his own, the commercial stuff he kept out front to ease the waiting time for future buyers.
“Evening,” he said, offering a cheery smile. “Anything I can help you with?”
