The café was quiet, nestled between rows of flower stalls and bookstores. Morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting soft gold onto polished oak tables. Sam stirred his tea absentmindedly, his mind elsewhere until the soft chime above the door signaled Oliver's arrival.
"Sorry I'm late," Oliver said as he slid into the seat across from him, slightly breathless and smiling. "James wouldn't let me leave without at least five kisses."
Sam smirked. "Possessive as always."
"And dramatic," Oliver added, rolling his eyes. "He acts like I'm heading into war just going to brunch."
They both laughed, the tension easing between them.
Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "So… when are you two getting married?"Oliver blinked, mid-sip of his coffee. "Whoa—straight to the deep end?"
"I'm serious," Sam said, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "You've got my blessing. But if he hurts you… I'll put him in the ground."
Oliver's smile faltered—then turned fond. "I know you mean that. But… we're not rushing. I'm nineteen. He's twenty-four. We talked about waiting until I'm a little older. Until we've lived a bit."
Sam nodded. "Fair."
A moment passed before he asked more quietly, "Have you mated yet?"
Oliver choked slightly on his drink, turning a deep red. "No! I mean—not yet. We want to wait. We've been tempted, sure, especially during my last heat, but… I want it to be the right moment."
Sam gave him a teasing smirk. "You're stronger than I was."Oliver blushed harder and looked down at his phone. It buzzed with a notification. His smile faded.
"Flo app just reminded me one of my had her period — " He looked up slowly. "Sam… have you had yours?"
Sam blinked. "What?"
"Your period. Have you had it this month?"
Sam paused.
Then realized—he hadn't. Not last week. Not the week before.
And his stomach had felt a little different.
"I… I don't think I have," he whispered, eyes wide. "Oliver…"
Oliver's face paled, but his tone remained calm. "Let's go. We'll check. Right now."