SKYE
I woke up to the soft, peachy-pink light filling the room. I looked at Soren, lying in my arms, his head resting on my shoulder, his long black hair spilling over my chest. He was here, with me. My dream was fulfilled, at least the first stage of it, the rest I had to work hard to build myself. Slowly and carefully, I got up and headed to the shower.
Afterward, I made breakfast, put it on a tray and went back to the room where Soren was still sleeping. He stirred when he heard my footsteps, his pale face turning toward me, looking apathetic.
"Breakfast for you, sleepyhead," I said, trying to put on a happy face.
I sat down next to him and placed the tray on his lap.
"Thank you," Soren mumbled quietly, looking strangely uncomfortable, oh how well I knew this expression.
He seemed calmer but still a bit sad. His thoughtful eyes drifted to the tray. He reached for the coffee cup and lifted it to his lips. I stayed silent, watching him.
Soren ate for a while, then his gaze fell on the violin case lying on top of the wardrobe.
"Will you play something for me?" he asked.
I winced slightly because I hadn't practiced much lately, I had tuned the violin about a week ago, but I was hoping it would sound decent.
"Alright, I can play, but I’m not warmed up, so I might be a bit rusty."
I took the instrument out of its case, stood by the window, and raised it to my shoulder. I started playing slowly—"A Thousand Years" by Christina Perri, violin cover—noticing with some surprise that my fingers didn’t feel as stiff as usual, despite the lack of practice.
Soren watched and listened for a while, even pausing from eating his breakfast.
When I finished, he said, "Do you like these ancient songs?"
Unsure how to answer, I shrugged. "Well, I like the lyrics. Especially the part about 'I have died every day waiting for you' and ‘all along I believed I would find you.'"
His eyes roamed over my face for a while, but he didn’t comment on the lyrics.
"My dad used to play beautifully. He started teaching me even though he had very little time since he was the one supporting us. But after the accident, he never picked up the violin again."
I put the instrument back in its case and sat down next to him again.
"What happened to your dad?" I asked.
"Car accident. He lost the use of both legs and one arm. He couldn’t work and had back problems… He suffered a lot. The pain was so intense it drained his will to live."
"How old were you then?"
"Nine."
I froze. I hadn’t realized Soren was so young when all this happened. For some reason, I assumed he had to be older—at least a teenager. How else could he have managed everything?
"Did you have any help?" I asked.
"The Omega Aid Agency sent a nurse to help with my dad's hygiene needs, but I had to do the rest—cleaning, shopping, cooking, going to school on my own. He couldn’t even attend parent-teacher meetings; he only spoke with the school principal online."
I blinked in shock, realizing that Soren’s life had been much harder than I’d imagined.
"Oh my God, Soren. You really had no one to help you?"
Soren shook his head. "My dad was an only child. He had no siblings, and both my grandparents were already gone."
"And your alpha father?"
"He’s gone too. He was a soldier and died during an overseas mission."
"How did you get by financially? Was there a pension?"
"My parents weren’t married. My alpha father was a… stud. Very handsome guy. He got five omegas pregnant, so I have a lot of half-siblings, but I don’t know any of them well. We met during our father's funeral and later when our granddad died. I was also invited to some weddings, but there is no close bond. I didn’t get any money from my father, I only inherited a small sum from my granddad, who left a bit to all of my father’s illegitimate children, which covered two years of my tuition. So money was tight, and I was always taking on part-time jobs from the time I was fourteen. My dad worked online as a text editor. He had one functioning hand, and that’s how he supported us."
I was quiet for a while, unsure of what to say. Soren finished eating and stared at the empty tray.
"I’m sorry, Soren. I can’t even imagine what it must have felt like to have so much responsibility fall on you… You had to grow up fast."
Soren stayed silent, now fixing his eyes on the wall opposite the bed. A framed photograph of my family hung there, showing all of us smiling on the porch of my childhood home. I felt strange, knowing that he didn’t have such a support system and that his upbringing was so different from mine. I used to complain about my situation—growing up with so many siblings with wildly different personalities—but Soren had real reasons to be upset. His rough childhood would certainly shape anyone's character and outlook on life.
"He died one and a half years ago," Soren continued, "after another unsuccessful surgery that was supposed to fix his constant pain. I don’t have anyone. I only had Anton and Liam throughout high school and most of college, but Anton left too, soon after my dad died. And Liam… well, you know the rest of the story." Soren trailed off and pressed his lips together.
Suddenly, it all clicked in my head—the understanding of Soren’s deeply stressful reaction to the thought of losing another person in his life, especially someone who had been present for almost a decade. He didn’t want to push Liam away—that’s why he was ready to sacrifice his own happiness and play along with the ‘platonic boyfriend’ scenario. But at the same time, he didn’t want to lose me either, and that was his dilemma. Have his cake and eat it too?
Even though I had backed him into a corner, and anyone else in their right mind would have told me to fuck off, he stayed. This realization gave me a new perspective on Soren. It helped me better understand his fears and why he clung so desperately to the people in his life, even when it didn't always make sense.
"I won’t leave you," I whispered, reaching for his hand.
Soren laughed bitterly. "Everyone says that, but there’s always a way out for anyone. You can’t control everything in life."
"But you can try. I know what I want. I want you in my life. I want to be with you."
"We’ll see. Time will tell."
He looked down at our intertwined hands. My finger gently brushed over his tattooed wrist, and something caught my attention—did the scar there seem flatter? I didn’t dare mention it, not wanting to lead to a conversation he might not be ready for. His fingers moved slightly in response to my touch, and his eyes slowly lifted to meet mine.
I could feel the electricity increasing in the air. Soren slowly pulled the blanket down, exposing his chest. My eyes fell on his hard, dark pink nipples.
I couldn't take my eyes off them, so I stared unabashedly.
"Do you want to touch me?" he asked in a velvety, sensual tone. "I love it when you suck on them. Will you make me cum like this?"
My pulse quickened in a second. There was something fascinatingly naughty about the way he could change his demeanor from dejected to lascivious in a matter of seconds.
"I'm on board," I blurted out, grabbing the tray to toss it aside.
And then I did exactly what he asked me to do.
***
The next week passed in a strange, quiet way—almost peaceful. Our relationship seemed to stabilize somehow.
Soren was mostly silent. We didn’t talk much, but we spent hours each day making love—slowly, gently, tenderly. We kissed a lot, especially while I was inside him. Sometimes I’d be moving within him, and our mouths would stay locked together. Just as he found relaxation and escape in it, I learned to see it the same way.
So, we spent long, lazy hours like that, connected, merged into one, lost in pleasure, not thinking about anything, moving from one orgasm to the next.
We were both waiting.
Each day felt like a countdown to something inevitable… Ten days. Fifteen. Twenty. Soren marked those days on a wall calendar he found in a closet that came with our apartment. The closet had a few things left behind by an older omega, including that paper calendar. The dates didn’t match, but Soren hung it up anyway. It showed a panorama of our city—the same view we once saw from the hill we climbed together. He marked the passing days with crosses, counting down to… the expected miscarriage. He never said it out loud, but it was obvious.
One day, something seemingly insignificant happened. In our department, there was a monthly raffle organized among the employees. Anyone could participate, and various items were raffled off—sometimes not very useful—just funny gadgets to add a little extra fun to the workplace. Afterward, people would talk about who won what.
Once, I decided to join in without expecting much. But on Friday, when the results were announced, I saw my name next to one of the prizes. I was stunned to see that I’d won… a nesting kit!
I went down to the HR department, where they were distributing the prizes. As I approached the door, I passed Sariel Lowen, who was holding a small glass figurine—he had obviously won. I murmured a quiet 'hi' as I walked by, and he responded, a little surprised by my greeting, his mint-colored eyes swept over my face. My mood was definitely better those days, even though my situation with Soren wasn’t perfect. But I felt like we were getting somewhere, so I had no reason to be grumpy around my co-workers.
When I entered the HR room and saw what my prize was, I was quite shocked by its size. The package was enormous!
The huge box contained at least thirty colorful throw pillows, sashes, and bright, sturdy ropes, plus a few blankets and scarves! The colors were beautiful—I have to admit—vibrant but not too intense: lovely shades of mint, turquoise, emerald, lime green, bottle-green, sea green, and more.
There were two omegas in the HR department, and they blushed when they saw me. Of course—there was still that social taboo around nesting. This wasn’t something an alpha should be involved with, and the world wouldn’t let me forget it. Feeling awkward as hell, I muttered, "A perfect gift for Dad…"
I was met with deep silence. Somehow, I managed to carry—or rather drag—the huge box out with me. I got it down to my car and stuffed it in the trunk, but of course, part of it stuck out. The box bulged over the seats, its contents clearly visible.
After work, when Soren came down to the car with me, he got in, then suddenly turned around and opened his mouth. "What’s this?!"
I sighed in embarrassment. "I won it in the raffle. Just ignore it. It’s a nesting kit for omegas."
Soren blinked and muttered, "Nice colors."
"That’s what I thought, too."
And that was the end of that situation. I hauled the box up to my apartment and stuffed it in the empty closet in the hallway. I decided I’d give it to my dad for his birthday.
At the time, it didn’t seem like anything more would come of it.