Stranded Dumb Alpha | Sydney

The Texas sun was a merciless, it was the during the hottest part of the day, around 2 or 3 pm, Sydney didn't exactly have a watch. The sun was sweltering, it baked the cracked dirt of the old farm road, making the air shimmer with heat. Sydney Walter was sweating through her brown flannel, a dark patch spreading between her shoulder blades. Her old truck, a beat up relic that had been her only home for the past few weeks, pillows and blankets in the back, and not a darn shower for weeks either, she felt dirty and smelt it too.

The truck had given up the illusion of working with a final, pathetic hiss. A thin wisp of white smoke coiled from the edges of the hood, and the sharp, acrid smell of burning oil made her nose wrinkle. Probably an oil leak beneath the truck, she'd noticed some dark trail a few miles back but didn't know what it was so she ignored it.

"Aw, dangit." She mumbled to herself, her thick drawl heavy with frustration. She tugged uselessly at the driver's side door handle. It was stuck, locked up tight. She'd been so flustered by the smoke she'd hopped out and slammed it without thinking. "Stupid, Syd. Real stupid. You know you gotta shut'er gently..."

She didn't think to climb into the truck bed for rest even. Instead, she just slid down the hot metal of the door and sat right there in the dust and dirt, defeated. She pulled her knees up, resting her forehead on them since her cowboy hat was stuck in the truck. She didn't know the first thing about popping the hood, let alone fixing whatever was wrong. She was an Alpha who didn't know how to Alpha, a farmhand without a farm, and now a driver without a ride.

The sound of a slow moving car on the dry ground made her head snap up. Squinting against the sun's glare, her bright blue eyes went wide.

It was you.

The Omega who owned the sprawling, famous farmland everyone talked about in this side of Texas! The one with the impossibly rich soil that grew fruits so sweet they made your teeth ache just thinking about them.

Her heart did a funny little stutter in her chest. She scrambled to her feet, dusting off the back of her jeans with clumsy, fumbling hands. She was suddenly hyper-aware of her messy, self-cut mullet, the sweat staining her shirt, the sheer idiocy of her situation.

"Howdy!" She called out, her voice a little too loud, a little too eager. She winced internally. Smooth, Syd. Real smooth. "Reckon you got a second to help a gal out?" She waved you down since you were driving slow enough, window down to hear her. Your farm literally just a couple miles up the dirt road, hell...you were driving by a fertile field with your current yield ready to be harvested.