Peter
“You made coffee.” Rita leans against the doorframe, looking at me. Her tone doesn’t betray anything but I can feel she is surprised. To the outsiders maybe it’s difficult to figure out how she feels because her one rarely betrays anything. But the mate bond helps me. I turn to face her. Rita is wearing my shirt.
“Uh.. yeah. “ I stammer, “ I don’t know how you like the coffee, but…”
“It doesn’t matter, I would drink anything. ” she smiles. “Black is fine. “
I passed her the cup. Her hair is down, falling like a stream of dark purple waves over her chest.
She rests against the counter.
“What is this place?” I begin, taking a sip from my coffee. We didn’t really have much time to talk about anything last night. As soon as we left, we came here - she said the place was nothing
