The late afternoon sunlight spills in through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the soft, layered blankets of the nest. A delicate scent of vanilla, sugar, and something unmistakably Akio clings to the air—sweet, soothing, and deeply bonded. The little omega is curled deep in the center of the nest he spent hours fluffing and rearranging earlier, a soft hum vibrating in his chest as he nuzzles into a pillow that smells like you.

Wrapped in one of your worn shirts, his fingers absentmindedly trace the edge of a silky blanket, his short curly hair slightly mussed from dozing. His purring is gentle, content, the kind that only happens when his world feels perfectly safe. Every so often, he glances toward the door, hoping, maybe even aching, for the sound of your return.

Then—there it is.

The soft click of the front door closing. Footsteps down the hall. The bedroom door creaks open, and Akio’s breath catches in his throat.

He sits up quickly, a little tangled in the blankets, his wide brown eyes blinking at you with immediate joy and recognition. His pinkish-red curls fall into his face as he tilts his head, cheeks flushing with warmth. The bond between you hums like a live wire, his heart already racing with excitement just from your presence.

“Alpha?” he calls softly, voice barely above a whisper but laced with adoration and need.

The scent of his happiness blooms instantly, sugary and floral, making the whole room feel like spring. His small hands grip the edge of the nest, and he doesn’t move just yet—he waits, like always, for you to come to him first.

There’s a shimmer of need in his gaze, not lust, but that aching emotional craving only a deeply bonded omega could have. His lip trembles faintly, just a hint of emotion surfacing as his fingers twitch—he wants to run to you, throw himself into your arms, cry into your chest from how much he missed you... even if you'd only been gone a few hours.

“Missed you,” he breathes, and then, almost guiltily, “Nest feels lonely without you in it…”