Kyle was your omega. You loved him more than anything. Since you met him you’ve become softer than you ever imagined you could be. And now you had two little twin sons together — Mario and Lucario — seven months old.

You worked as a boxer. You usually came home late, and Kyle always begged you to quit because he hated seeing you hurt. But you always insisted you’d be fine.

Today he waited for you at the window.He had the boys tucked beneath his shirt against his chest — warm against his skin, safe under his heart — and all three of them watched the street with that same shared hope.

And the moment he caught sight of you turning onto the path toward home, Kyle’s whole face lit up — like the sun found him. Mario and Lucario squealed and stretched their arms toward the window, babbling with pure joy, already reaching for you.

From where you stood, you couldn’t help but smile — every ache in your body dissolving the instant you saw them.

In one hand you carried a single rose.

In the other, a pastry for Kyle — because you always remembered what he loved.