Page 8 of Naughty Elf: Alfie
“You have more faith than I do.”
Naked trees line the sidewalk leading up to my apartment building.
“Maybe in those early days people were just having a bad time. People go to these type shops when they’re desperate. Right?”
“Sometimes, yeah. They want to feel better and they’ve exhausted all the mundane ways, so they take crystals for a spin. Or want a tarot reading.”
Alfie stops and steps in front of me. “Maybe, just maybe, it was an off day for these people. You should try being Pisces again.”
“Okay. I’ll try. But why do you need to learn to be Alfie?” He seems to exude I’m always me type of energy.
Alfie shrugs as he takes too much interest in the concrete sidewalk. “I act out for attention. Always have.”
“Why?” I squeeze his hand.
“I’d rather have people laughing with me than at me.” He scuffs his toe on the sidewalk and starts walking. We’re close to my apartment building. “It doesn’t always work. I know they’re laughingatme, but I can’t help myself anymore. If there’s something silly I think will bring a smile to someone’s face, I do it.”
“Hence, monster fudging is fun?”
“Exactly. It was funny at the time.” He gasps when he looks up and we’re at my building. “Is that your kitty?” He waves at Harold in the window. Harold cocks his head and leaves his spot, making Alfie pout. “He doesn’t like me.”
“He doesn’t know you.” I snort laugh and slap a hand over my mouth again.
“That was adorable.”
“Harold isn’t usually friendly to strangers and certainly not alphas. So please don’t be upset if he hides.”
Alfie pouts, but I’m pretty sure it’s fake. “I’ll be good.”
I unlock the building and wave for the stairs. “Up and to the left.”
We bound up the stairs with Alfie leading.
“Fate.” He rubs the silver metallic letters screwed into my door. “My apartment number in the North Pole is?—”
“888?”
He nods. “Always thought it was special.” He waits patiently as I find the right key and unlock the door to my apartment.
“Welcome to my apartment. Make yourself at home.”
Alfie sucks in a breath, and I try to see my apartment from his perspective. It’s probably chaos to an outsider, but my rabbit needs enrichment. I have play structures everywhere. Plenty of things to chew on. Toys for cats and rabbits. A cat tree. I have a plastic bin with hay. And another full of cardboard tubes and other fun things to root around in. Harold doesn’t mind all the clutter. Not that I’d call it clutter. Everything is organized in itsown way. And the so-called mess is contained to the living room. Everywhere else is clean, only needing a weekly light dusting and vacuum.
“This is amazing,” Alfie says. His eyes seem to shine as he takes everything in.
“It’s home.” A yawn escapes before I can say anything else.
Alfie frowns and his shoulders drop. “You’re tired.”
“I am. The adrenaline is dropping now that I know a serial killer or thief didn’t infiltrate my warehouse.” I yawn again. “But if Harold freaks out, you might need to go unless you have scent suppressors.”
“I do not.”
“Then let’s hope Harold is just a grumpy kitty instead of terrified.” I turn to head towards my bedroom to find Harold trotting out. He rubs his head against Alfie’s calf and purrs. “That… is strange. He doesn’t normally like alphas.” When I take him to the shop, he hides from alphas in his little safe space I built for him in the backroom.
Alfie squats to pet Harold on his head. “Awe, you’re a sweetie pie, aren’t you?” He coos at my cat and I melt. “Why don’t you like the other alphas, little one?”
“An alpha abused him in his kittenhood.” I watch on in wonder as my cat loves on my fated mate.
