Wrong To Be His Alpha || Tk 𐤀

🔸 CHAPTER 22🔸

                    Worthy of love 🌹

Sleep? The definition of it is not known to him. Sitting on the couch, stiffly, barely blinking, he appears as a statue who is given no chance of life, no right to feel.

His rough hands holding a suave glass that has several times begged him for a leave. The heat suppressing drugs being swiftly dissolved in the solvent of clear water wrongly, but ideally satisfies him by mounting a heavy blockage on his tremendous inner unrest. His mind inexplicably reciprocating the silence of the house, walls rudely observing him with keen anticipation.

Thinking back to the past conversation, he doesn't regret one bit, doing anything that he did. His mind seems to try outracing the golden eagle that competes with the limit of infinite voyage, limiting the skies, extending his wish of being free.

The wind pleasing, cooling, satisfying. But, also presenting unlimited struggles that stand the ground with rigid force.

The harsh blows on the delicate feathers, flowing crudely over his frame. His mind doesn't seem to be sure of what the feeling that he currently encounters shall be coined if it needs to be exact.

Funny, confusing, rebellious, angering, anything possible in the world of materialistic hearts and worldly minds cannot be used to describe this storm. The language of the earth isn't enough, it doesn't even scratch the basic amenities. The last gulp of the suppressing drug follows his previous one, creating an ironical ripple to disturb his already traversed mind.

This is how he wants to live. No agony, no overwhelming emotions, no happiness, no excessive laughter's. He likes to be in middle, efficiently faking anything else that cones as a need in the list of makeup emotions in the life. The world just needs to see, neither feel nor understand. He lives for a world that cares about nothing but itself.

The bell rings as per the common routine.

It is Jackson, his inner voice declares, as if showing off that the single piece of unnecessary information is known by it. Turning his heels to the door, not forgetting to meticulously hide the suppressants, he rushes to open the door. Flowers in hand, which never stops surprising him, a wide smile, never fading, never demolishing in the world of tears and false grins, Jackson has, several times, proved himself to be the figure of his positivity.

Sliding away from the door, creating the passage for the other to enter inside his humble abode, he barely makes any effort of hiding his mood. The very common guest now starts taking in the hints of his unhappy and gloomy aura, tracing his facial features, trying to understand the intensity of sourness in them.

Gazing at the eyes of the submissive one he wanders around in the cocktail of flickering emotions, letting himself get flown away with the liquor they present to him. One gaze is all it takes to fall for the umpteenth time. It is wrong, but it is involuntary. He makes no move, no blink gets the permission to occur.

No beat gets the authority of being steady, it races like a wild racing horse. The eyes fail to get distracted from the mesmerizing orbs of the other. The flowers slip away from his hands, falling materially on the table's uniform surface.

No move is needed by the dominant alpha now, for the submissive one starts ambling towards him. Unaware steps, unintentional movements, and his jacket is tugged in tae's hands. The pull feathery, light, exquisite. A very similar tug on the other side follows. Then follows the pull that he never wants to forget. A long share of body heat receives the charter of completion with a hug as a medium and witness, as if it is a medication that both need to strive with and strive for Long, satisfying, naive.

The hug deepens with every passing moment indicating that the initiator doesn't want to let go. Jackson softly strokes the other's soft hair, securing the head on his shoulder, he cherishes the moment that heavens have blessed him with. He so very eagerly wants to know the cause of this gloomy attitude, but he has no way to ask. If wanted, the words would come eventually, just by themselves.