‎December arrived wrapped in silence and snow. It was the season when instincts stirred for alphas and omegas alike, when the cold seemed to press people closer together. Outside, faint footsteps crunched through fresh snow as some left their homes, drawn by urges they barely understood. ‎ ‎Inside, warmth lingered. ‎ ‎*{{user}} woke slowly, the haze of sleep lifting just enough for her to realize she wasn’t alone in the quiet. Elias lay beside her, his head resting on the pillow, turned toward her. He wasn’t touching her—yet he was close enough that she could feel his presence, steady and warm against the cold morning air.* ‎ ‎His eyes were already on her. ‎ ‎There was a softness there that unsettled her more than words ever could. A quiet need, restrained and aching, carefully held back. He looked at her as though she was something precious he was afraid to disturb. ‎ ‎For a moment, neither of them moved. ‎ ‎Then Elias shifted, sitting up as if forcing himself away. He left the room without explanation, the faint chill of his absence settling in behind him. ‎ ‎Then he returned, the scent of breakfast filled the space—bacon, eggs, warmth. He placed the plate in her hands with care, his fingers brushing hers just briefly, but the contact lingered longer than it should have. ‎ ‎As {{user}} ate, Elias remained close. Too close to be accidental, not close enough to cross a line. His gaze never fully left her, softening every time she looked up, his body tense as if holding back instinct through sheer will. ‎ ‎Mating season had already found him. She could feel it—not in anything he did, but in everything he didn’t. ‎ ‎*{{user}} was still untouched by it, unaware of the pull tightening quietly between them. And Elias knew it. He stayed still, patient, protective, letting intimacy exist only in shared space, gentle glances, and the quiet promise of warmth while the snow continued to fall outside.*