The Alpha's Pretend-Boyfriend

The Unrequited Love

Everyone had gone out of the restaurant when Dane let them go early that day, except for Callie and Fig. Fig, because he was still unconscious, and Callie, because she couldn’t move with the demon's head resting on her shoulder. It had been more or less than half an hour since everyone else had left, but Callie didn’t want to wake him up so he could get some rest.

She had already seen him like this before—countless of times, actually, for the past 2 years. Every time he gets broken up with or he breaks up with someone, the routine was the same. He would come to work and rant about it, Dane would allow him to mess up the kitchen and they would all have a fun, chaotic time with it—except for Gadreel—and then Fig would return to his nightly bar crawls where he doesn’t even try to control his alcohol intake. However, he had almost always been functional the following day and only complained of a hangover. It was only during a particularly bad break-up that he went to work still wasted—an occurrence that Callie had personally witnessed only once. But it seemed that this time was as bad as that, to the point that Dane recognized it and told him off. And Dane—out of all the bosses out there—was one of the kindest and most forgiving. Suffice it to say, she was worried.

Callie’s back had started to ache and there was an itch on her arm that had been pestering her for the last five minutes, and yet she stayed still. Finally, Fig's eyes slowly blinked open as a groan escaped his lips.

“Are you awake?” Callie gently asked.

Fig slowly raised his head, yawned, and looked around. He frowned when his weary eyes landed on Callie. “Oh, hey,” he muttered, his throat obviously dry. “Where is everyone?”

Callie offered him a bottle of water, which he thanked her for and immediately drank. “They’ve all gone home,” she answered.

Fig wiped his lips with the back of his hand then threw the empty bottle into the trashcan. “Why haven’t you?”

“I-uh, you were still here so, I wasn’t sure if I should leave you or lock up,” Callie lied. The truth was pretty obvious—she was worried.

“Oh, then you should’ve just left me here. I could’ve locked up,” Fig said as he stood up. He almost fell down again if it weren’t for Callie hurriedly steadying him.

“Careful,” she muttered, choosing not to reply to what he had just said. “Take a seat first. I’ll get your things and we can get a cab together.”

Fig didn’t argue and did as he was told. He sat back on the bench and only watched as Callie rushed to collect both of their things. He had always known she was a good person—the kindest, in fact, of everyone he knew. Case in point, she was helping a deadbeat like him instead of taking the day off to rest or do whatever it was that female Beta werewolves did.

Callie could feel his eyes on her, and he didn’t even try to avert them when she turned around to walk back towards him. “Got them,” she awkwardly smiled, raising their bags to show him. Unlike his usual self, Fig seemed to be ruminating about something that made his red eyes seem even more intense. It was either that or he was just zoning out.

Callie had always liked his confident and flirty demeanor, but with him having a serious expression on his face with his hair unusually tousled, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, and the few top buttons of his shirt undone, she realized she liked every version of him—even this self-destructive one.

“What is it?” she asked. “Are you still dizzy?”

Fig continued to stare at her for a few more seconds, then as if he snapped out of his thoughts, he stood up and took his bag from her. “No, I’m good,” he replied, looking a bit more okay. After all, it was difficult for demons to get drunk, but extremely easy for them to sober up. It was usually a good thing since Fig liked drinking for leisure, but that wasn’t the case this time.

Callie gave him a small smile as he opened the door for her, then they went out of the restaurant to get a cab. It was a quiet ride as they sat on opposite sides. They only broke the silence when the building that Fig lived in came into view.

“Just by that corner, please,” Callie pointed it out to the driver.

“No, go ahead to the next one,” Fig said, indicating her building instead. “We'll just make a drop-off.”

Callie frowned at him. “Aren’t you going home yet?” she asked.

“I can go back to my place after I drop you off,” Fig answered, but Callie knew he wasn’t planning on heading home. The driver stopped the car in front of her apartment and they both stepped out. It was clear that she had something to say as Fig walked her to the door, but she remained mum about it until Fig said, “Alright then. Thanks for looking out for me. I owe you one now—actually, I think I owe you quite a lot. Just let me know how I can pay you back. Take care.”

“Take care,” was all Callie could mutter back. Fig smiled at her and turned to leave, but before he could dematerialize, she finally mustered up enough courage and grabbed his arm. “Wait!” she called out.

Fig immediately stopped and turned around, startled as he looked at his arm. “What is it? Did you leave something behind?”

“N-no,” Callie quickly withdrew her hand. Fig stared at her, confused as he waited for her to tell him what was going on. With a deep breath, she said, “Are you going to the bar again?” She didn’t wait for him to respond and shyly followed up, “Can you… not? I know you’re heartbroken, but I’m worried you’d get into trouble.”

Fig’s eyebrows raised in surprise, then he chuckled for reasons Callie didn’t understand. “You’re very pretty, you know that?” he asked, making the blood rush up to her cheeks. “Very kind, too. The kindest.” He took a step closer to her and brought his hand up to the side of her face. For a second, Callie thought he was going to tuck her hair behind her ear, but instead, he pinched her cheek. “You could get any guy you want. If I ever find a good werewolf boy that's up to your standards, I’d introduce you two,” he said with a soft smile.

“I don’t think I want…” Callie felt her throat go dry as she helplessly thought about how she didn’t want some random stranger. But instead of saying that, she sighed and nodded. “Yeah, alright. Thanks.”

“Ah, by the way,” Fig straightened up as an idea entered his head. “Do you have any cards or board games upstairs? And beer?”

“I do.” Callie frowned, unsure why he was suddenly asking about those. “Would you like to borrow them, or…”

“Well,” Fig sighed with a feigned look of dismay. “I was planning on going to the bar tonight, but I guess my plans have changed. You want to play cards with me instead?”

Callie's lips turned into a bright smile as she vigorously nodded.