winter of orphic love | ot7 poly |

Chapter 2 Skipping Meals?

"Skipping meals? That doesn't sound like my Joonie," I say as I enter the bedroom. I look over the room and find the silhouette of his body curled on the center bed. He clutches the blankets to his chest and his head facing the back wall.

My lips pressed together, thinking over my next words carefully. I add, "You should eat. It doesn't do well to skip them. It's not like we're running low."

Namjoon sighs heavily. He sits up from the bed but he doesn't turn around. "I'm sorry."

"It's not me you should apologize to."

He runs his hand through his hair before sharply dropping it. "I know, I just--," he sighs and repeats, "I know."

"Staying in the room won't make it go away," I point out.

Namjoon nods. "I know."

"Talk to Jimin," I urged and walked further into the room. I sit on the edge of the bed and look over his back. "Communication is--"

"--key, I know."

Yet you don't know.

"Then talk to him. Talk to everybody about what's going on."

Namjoon shakes his head firmly. Then his scent hits me like a wall to the face, it is almost disorientating. The powerful scent of sandalwood and musk, notes of the forest floating in the air. But I notice there is deep rot swirling in the smell; he's really upset. Something in my stomach stirs, yearning to reach for him and melt in his touch. To taste his lips on mine, and to feel the brush of his bare skin against mine all for the sake of taking his pain away, to let his worries burn in the rush of a heat.

I swallow hard against my throat and sternly remind myself not to get carried away. The effects of his presence are stronger than the others because he's the Alpha. It's something out of his control, and my immediate reactions are out of mine. But over the years, I've learned to tame these urges and only indulge myself in moments of security and peace. Right now, is not one of those times.

He's upset, and no amount of physical love can pull him out of it. There aren't enough kisses in the world to heal a wounded heart. Luckily, I am well-versed in other forms of love that serve me better in these situations. It's my purpose to love and accept love, in all of its complex forms. It's something I want to do for my packmates. This desire to help them goes beyond basic biology; my biology as a Luna helps my efforts be more effective.

Just as his scent affects me, mine can do a number on him and the others in the pack.

He notices my silence and says, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that."

I look away from his shadowed figure, trying to move my nose away in order to refocus. "It's alright. You can't help it."

"I can tell you're worried," he adds quietly. "At this rate, you'll make me scent-drunk."

I take a step back and cast him an apologetic look. "That wasn't my purpose. I just wanted to check on you. You seem really sad these days. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Namjoon's eyes are downcast but filled with silent thought. "Everybody has been working so hard. I want to help them, but I don't feel like I'm helping at all. You know this, I'm just repeating myself but... still."

"Wanting to help isn't wrong," I comment, "but I feel like you're comparing yourself to something..."

"There's something in my mind," he answers. "It's like a version of myself that I want to be. Self-growth is supposed to be good, right?" He pauses and looks towards the curtains instead. "It's stressing me out. I keep thinking that I'm not enough and it becomes a vicious cycle."