Saffron

BOOM.

Saffron flinched at the ear-splitting sound and looked out the windows of L&K, a chain bookstore where he worked. Lightning had struck close to the historic building and rattled the windows. He was relieved to not be alone right now.

Still, he couldn’t shake the ominous feeling. He always felt that way whenever it rained, but there was something even more off about this dreary April morning. He rubbed the scar on the left side of his neck. It ached like hell today.

Isn’t the saying “April showers bring May flowers”? Only two more days until May.

Saffron eyed the dirty water that customers had tracked into the store. He sighed and stood up from restocking the romance section, his favorite genre. After placing a yellow caution sign to prevent slips and falls, which could lead to lawsuits, he cleaned the entrance. Two women were talking loudly while browsing in the section next to him. They were also staring outside.

“The weather is something today,” one of them commented.

“Mm-hmm. I heard the storm extends from Louisville to Green Bay. My cousin working in Willis Tower just told me yesterday how he’s been freaked out by the wind. The building is swaying like there’s no tomorrow.”

“I’m just glad there aren’t any tornado warnings.”

Tornado…

Just hearing that word made Saffron feel ill. Old memories began to emerge, but he stopped that train of thought immediately. The last thing he needed was a panic attack.

He finished drying the floor, though it became moot as more people came in to take shelter from the heavy downpour. The bookstore was in the heart of Chicago, so the foot traffic in the area was usually busy—especially since many college textbooks were ordered from this specific location.

Saffron put away the mop and bucket and returned to his cart, which was filled with products to restock. When he leaned down to fix the books on the bottom shelf, he noticed that a very important aspect of his outfit was missing. There was no uniform for the sales associate job, as long as the employees were presentable, but the clip-on name tag with his photo was required.

And it was missing. He studied the floor and under the cart. It wasn’t there.

Maybe it fell off where I was cleaning?

He checked over there, too. There was no name tag in sight. Saffron scratched his head. He could’ve sworn he’d had it before mopping the entrance. He peered into the aisle behind him. Nope. Then, he walked toward the back aisle where there weren't many people.

After searching with no results, Saffron stood there trying to remember how much it would cost to replace it. Ten dollars, perhaps. If employees lost their name tags, the cost would come out of their paycheck. And since he had never lost one befor—

“Saffy,” a voice said behind him. It grated on his ears like nails on a chalkboard. “I found this for you.”

He whirled around and found himself face-to-face with a tall alpha roughly a decade or more older than he was. The man’s eyes ate Saffron up in a gross way that was unsettling. In the palm of his hand was a name tag.

Ugh, this guy again. Was he following me? He’s been coming in a lot lately to watch me work.

“Thank you, sir, but my name is Saffron. If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot to do,” he said in a fake-nice tone as he took the name tag from the stranger’s tight grip. Only friends and family could call him Saffy.

He clipped the name tag onto his shirt where it belonged and thought about buying a lanyard. Saffron turned to leave. The manager, Florian, was out today so he’d make sure to tell him about that creep tomorrow. Again.

“But I heard your friend at the café call you Saffy. It’s a cute name for a cute omega.”

Saffron paused mid-step. It was rare for someone to correctly guess that he was an omega. People were often curious when they saw him, since male omegas were the rarest of the secondary genders. Saffron’s entire appearance screamed that he was one, but he was missing the most crucial part of being an omega itself, which confused everyone.

Pheromones. A unique scent.

Saffron did not have any.

“I can tell you are an omega,” the guy said and licked his dried lips.

“How… do you know?” Saffron knew he shouldn’t keep interacting and feeding into the conversation, but he was genuinely curious.

“It’s pretty obvious, at least to me. I’ve been watching you for a while. I don’t know why you don’t release your pheromones, not even a whiff. I’m dying to know what your scent is. Can you show me?”

Okay, I’m done, Saffron thought with a racing heartbeat, worried about being alone with such a weird person.

When he began to back away slowly, the alpha noticed his wariness and growled, not appreciating Saffron’s trepidation. The man’s beady eyes gleamed angrily.

Goosebumps peppered Saffron’s skin at the aggressive sound, instigating a fight-or-flight response. He assumed alpha pheromones were floating around and trying to stick to him, but he couldn’t smell them either. It was a side effect of not having a scent gland, forcing him to live like a beta.

Since Florian wasn’t around, Saffron would have to handle the situation himself despite being so uncomfortable. He hated confrontation and drama.

“S-sir, please l-leave the stor—”

The end of a plastic broomstick was suddenly aimed at the man’s face. They both heard the sound of an equally aggressive growl next to Saffron.

“This stalker again?” Ash bared his teeth. He wore a black apron, which was the café uniform. “How many times do we have to tell you to get lost, pervert? My security friends at the theater next door have told us they have no issues coming to kick your ass if you bother him. Oh, and get your shitty, sour-tomato pheromones in check. It smells disgusting. Saffron is gonna have to air out this section!”

Sour tomatoes… I can’t tell.

Ash Hesterman was a few years younger than Saffron and the only other male omega he knew in real life. He was a go-getter and would not hesitate to speak what was on his mind… but also a massive flirt and liked to party. Many people came to L&K to browse, but not just for books, music, or movies—they would buy a single coffee from the company’s in-store cafe to talk to Ash.

He was popular and easy to approach, unlike Saffron’s wallflower personality.

Not wanting to get smacked with the broomstick (like he had the last time), the alpha side-eyed Saffron before scurrying out of the store and into the flooding Chicago streets. As the door banged shut, lightning lit up the store.

Ominous, indeed.