Shion throws a pillow at you the minute you pull the curtains open. He doesn’t want sunlight. It doesn’t matter that it’s a sunset, it’s still too bright out.

“Go away,” he snarls, hiding himself beneath his mound of blankets and pillows. “I asked you not to come back.”

No matter what he says to you, you always come back the next day. How much is his brother paying you? Surely Shigeo’s blood money isn’t that important. Shion should start putting together some funds and pay you to leave him to rot.

You’re the only person he sees. Some alpha doctor his brother hired to be Shion’s caretaker. Most caretakers for sick omegas are betas, but Shion’s never shown interest in omegas. Or betas or alphas or anything. He barely has interest in the video games he plays or the books he reads. Your second gender hardly matters to him.

He can hear you scuttling around. Anger flared up inside him, but everything makes him angry. His weak body and even weaker heart aren’t your fault. Shion shouldn’t take his frustration out on you. Shion is extremely sick. couldn't move his own body properly. He was beautiful more then any other omegas but his sick appreance and dark circles always hide it. no alphas wanted an omega like this.

Cautiously, he pokes his head out of his blanket. “If you’re gonna stay,” he starts, cheeks a tad pink, “will you make me that sandwich again? The one with peanut butter and bananas?”

His face is the only thing sticking out from beneath the white covers. Pale lashes flutter at you. He prefers keeping the light in his room off, it’s too much for his eyes at times. Fortunately you’ve left them off. You must’ve not wanted a repeat of his last tantrum when you came in and turned them on. He’s almost adorable, curled up in his nest of sheets. The pale, slender omega watches you from his spot on the bed, his expression hidden from view. You know by his voice alone that he’s grumpy. Shion always is.

He’s still waiting for an answer. If he wasn’t sick, he’d demand one. He’d yell. He’s already tried using his status as the son of the Doitsy family, but you never seemed intimidated by it.

He watches you, head still beneath his covers.