Wrong To Be His Alpha || Tk 𐤀

▪️ CHAPTER 3▪️

          🌸 How have you been? 🌸

Rustling and bustling of the cars, vehicles, and machines, the heat of the town and choking smell of the smoke, tiring traces of flooding sweat flowing down the pale skin.

The air condition of the car is abruptly turned off by the submissive alpha who now sits on the backseat of the car after shifting from his position in the driving seat. Every common thing around him seems so irritating today. His senses suddenly feel hypersensitive. Since the very moment he woke up, his mood seems sour. His body experiences a sudden turn in biorhythm. These feelings are new to a commoner but not to the one who is currently experiencing it.

It has a very clear indication and definite meaning. His body is tired. He needs an ample amount of rest after a night of painful rut. Yesterday his body had undergone the very common phenomenon of ruts that every normal alpha is bound to face. It is just that his routines of subsiding the pain work differently. His very common practice of enduring it first and then going through thousands of pain-relieving medicines and suppressants follows.

Sometimes the medicines fail to counteract his desires and then he ends up with a body that is overly tired due to the action of meds but is dissatisfied or relieved from the ever painful shackles of sinful desire. His mind cannot help but waver in the memory pots of the very rare times when he was touched by his mate. His mind gets crowded with the flashing images of him and his mate in an epitome of intimacy. He can not help but give more to the sinful desire of being touched.

His hands move on for providing him with the very necessary release, his mind clouds up under the thick veil of lust. It whimpers, moans and pants for desperately getting what it longs for. But his heart cries in the shade of agony that has never failed to shelter his sadness, insecurities, pain, and desperation, avoiding and preventing them from leaving his conscience.

The only thought that pierces his clogged mind like blazes of fire in the fragile pit of young green grass is "Whom are you fantasizing about? Is he yours anymore?" His motions come to an abrupt stop leaving him from acquiring even the slightest shiver of pleasure. It seems sinful. Wrong in the sense that he was not made to face justice, and again at the reality that he had nothing to say in it. Or had he?

Whatever might the pros or cons be, his mate is barely his. His man is no more the one whom he had loved or he still helplessly does. It has long been past. What remains are just the memories. This routine seems unreal.

He often convinces himself saying these never occur or these are the very vague glimpses of what he subconsciously dreams of. Yet, his life never leaves the slightest of a chance to throw him the trench of dark and harsh reality. His heat comes with pain and subsides in a very similar way.

FRUSTRATION. That is all he can feel at the moment.

While buttoning his shirt for the second time in a day, as they were opened due to the increasing heat, he reaches the second workplace. The day follows and so does the monotone of works. His heat tends to rise every moment leaving him panting out his discomfort every time he is out of the eyes of the world. Jackson, being the very close friend and caring one, doesn't fail even to the slightest to track off the other's desperate and helpless situation.

But, he refrains from confronting. He is still finding words to tell. He is yet to not get maddened by seeing the other's pale face that very carefully hides the desires.

It is difficult when a submissive one gets into the pit of desires and sits in front of him. But it is more difficult when the other happens to be a source of desires. It is more difficult when the other is his best friend. The evening comes, gradually draining everyone's energy as it similarly forces the sun to sleep. In the quiet room, enclosed by closed walls sits a submissive alpha cradling his face into his shaking palms.