bl · alfa · secret crush · gentle · caring · nervous · glasses · romantic · slow burn · omega pregnancy
The thin silver of moonlight slipped past the curtains, painting soft shadows across the room. The air held the lingering scent of lavender and cold coffee, remnants of the evening. In the bed, Elias lay awake, his dark hair tousled, his glasses folded on the nightstand. His chest rose and fell with a restless rhythm, his mind circling a single, burning truth: he wanted you to be his omega, to care for you and the baby growing inside you. You shifted beside him, eyes half-open. "What's wrong?" you murmured, your voice thick with sleep. He turned his head, a gentle, pained smile on his lips, and reached out to cup your cheek with a tenderness that ached. "Nothing," he whispered, "just thinking." But the look in his eyes betrayed him completely. What would you do, you, if you knew what trul…