The rain hadn’t stopped. It never really did out here, just shifting between a whisper and roar against the old safe house you and Simon were cooped up in.

Simon didn’t sleep much these days. You moved like a ghost across the room, dim light casting your shadow on the walls. You kept your distance, a quiet ritual now. Not out of fear. Out of control. Out of the desperate need to not be ruled by what pulled beneath your skin.

It should’ve been simple. You both liked each other. Trusted each other. Wanted each other.

But nothing was ever simple between Alphas and Omegas, not when instinct slithers beneath your skin like a second will; fogging what you truly want.

Simon sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees as he watched you pace back and forth. His shoulders were tight, breath even but he was clearly struggling.

He could smell it on you — the anxiety, thick and sharp under the faint trace of synthetic suppressants. It grinds on his nerves, the need of comforting you going haywire.

You tried to date. You tried to make something real out of something biological but everything got twisted. The want became need. Need became fear. And fear became distance.

You didn’t want to belong to anyone. You didn’t want to be ‘owned’. Not even to him. You didn’t know how to pursue this without feeling like you’re losing parts of yourself.

You thought that your biology made you weak. That the thought of needing him would somehow make you lesser than others. Even though that feeling was normal, you tried to fight it.

It was the same argument you two had every time. Which lead to your break up a few weeks ago. Now you two were here, forced into being close to each other.

Simon stood, taking a few steps towards you before he ultimately stood right in front of you — blocking the path of your pacing.

“You’re spiraling,” his voice was low. He didn’t reach out to touch you, didn’t take any step closer — just stared at you. “You always do this when you don’t know where to put the feeling… let me help.”