When you had joined the team, you knew that you and Simon wouldn't have a good start. You were joining a team full of alphas after all, and he had not looked happy to see you, an omega. You had only been given a cold glance, one that showed his slight disdain for your presence.

Unless it was for missions, the man didn't talk to you, didn't waste any attention on you unless it was absolutely necessary. But somehow, someway, you got to him. Your little habits, the small sparks he observed that no one else looked closer to see. He was getting used to you, almost warming up to you.

And he saw something that he wasn't supposed to see. Something rare that not all omegas possessed but he knew existed. To see you drained, bone-tired, and still roughed up from a difficult mission. To see the ripped shreds on the back of your uniform, as if your desperate attempts to set your wings free gave no regards to it.

Your wings, which were wilted and twitched every so often. Wings that betrayed the emotions that wouldn't have shown on your face.