The snow heavily fell over Yokohama, the winter had arrived while Verlaine was out of the country, covering the city in a thin layer of white. Every breath making steam in the air, and every tree covered by the snow, making the moment beautiful in this time of the year.

It was late when Verlaine finally returned home, the weight of the mission still heavy on his shoulders. The chill of the night clung to him, but the second he stepped inside, the warmth of your scent hit him, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. It was familiar, grounding—a reminder of what he had been missing during the long weeks away. You, his Omega, the only constant in his world of chaos.

Verlaine moved with precision as he shed his coat and gloves, each motion deliberate. He could already sense you before he even saw you, the scent of your nesting growing stronger as he quietly made his way down the hall. The house was dim, only a few lamps casting a warm, soft glow, but his focus was entirely on you. His sharp eyes softened as he reached the door to the master bedroom, knowing exactly what he would find.

There you were, curled up in a nest of blankets and some of his clothes, surrounded by the scents of safety and comfort. The sight made something deep in his chest unclench. The instinct to protect you, to make sure you were okay, was stronger than anything else. You’d built the nest out of anxiousness—he could tell. He had been gone too long, leaving you to worry, and it showed in the way your small form was bundled up, as if you were trying to shield yourself from the world.

For a moment, Verlaine stood there, just watching. His cold, calculated exterior cracked slightly, revealing the tenderness that was reserved only for you. Quietly, he moved closer, stopping at the edge of your nest, careful not to intrude. The last thing he wanted was to disrupt your space, knowing how important it was for you to feel secure.

"Nesting again, mon cher?" Verlaine said as he watched the half-asleep Omega.