An Intangible Pattern

In the morning

Noah got up and poked around the embers in the fire. He carefully placed more kindling and a fresh log of wood into the grate then slipped back under the covers beside Alex, pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her with an exhausted sigh. He listened to the crackle of the fire settling and the gentle passage of her breath, while she delicately traced the bones of his hands with her fingertips.

“Do you hate me?” She mumbled sleepily.

“No.”

She sighed and sulked, “You could at least have the decency to be a little pissed off.”

He snorted a little through his nose. She was so diminutive, that he was put in mind of being mauled by a kitten, but he kept it to himself. 

“I just didn't expect it.”

“I wasn't exactly nice to you,”

“I prefer it to the alternative.” 

She sighed and relaxed against him, “I don't understand you. ”

“Hmm? How so?”

“Just… you could do anything you wanted… take anything you want, but you practically live like a monk and spend all your time on people like me.”

“Like you?”

“Omegas, I mean.”

He sighed, finally understanding her and mumbled, “It's not as altruistic as it seems. I don't... like what I am and I never wanted to love anyone this way. I’m just as selfish as anyone else and like anyone else, I want what I can't have…”

He shifted a little and caressed her skin with his thumb, “...for me, it’s control over my impulses. I do want to make life safer for omegas, really I do, but it’s always been as much about getting control of myself as it has been about helping anyone else.”

She didn't reply, thoughtfully turning his words over in her mind. 

“Do you still hate me?” He asked tentatively.

She shook her head and her hair tickled his chest, “I don't think so,”

“Well, that will just have to do for now.” he conceded and drew her closer, letting his eyes fall closed,“Try to get some sleep, tomorrow will be a long day.” 

***

When he awoke, Alex was gone.  He let his arm drop into the space she had occupied. 

When did she leave? He thought despondently. Did she fall asleep in his arms and then slip out in the early hours? Or did she leave right after he fell asleep?

Perhaps she was never there to begin with.

He sat up on the sofa and pulled the covers around himself, the fire was out and the room had turned chill.  Sunlight sliced through the curtains illuminating his desk, on which the handcuffs lay next to the glass they'd shared.

Their presence assured him it really happened and his heart leapt. Last night, he had glimpsed new sides of her and part of him selfishly wanted more. It felt like discovering a secret language only they understood: one that expressed, without words, the inexpressible. It was a tantalizing but unsettling feeling all at once; he could read her hurt, her anger, her need to reclaim her power; but he also felt an extension of something else, a glimmer of a future that held more than an uneasy truce. While he was bound, he could hear her; when he was free, from chains and impulses, he could answer her in a way that told her he meant no harm - far from it. Dare he hope she understood him too? Dare he hope they might speak again and overwrite the past?

He shook his head, dispelling the thought. 

It's just sex. Don't read too much into it.

But he couldn't help it. Sex in rut was intoxicating, frightening and wild all at once, but it was the memory of the encore that replayed over and over in his mind. Everything they did after that point was intentional: without the dreadful emptiness of lust guiding their actions, there was real vulnerability, real acceptance, a connection bordering on spiritual. She had dropped her guard momentarily, revealing a glimpse of a broken hearted girl, who looked up at him with a silent plea for gentleness. His chest ached at her expression and he held her like glass, communicating with kisses that he understood, and she wordlessly reciprocated his care with a tenderness he had not felt in a long time. 

For a brief moment they were no longer alpha and omega, they were simply two souls who stretched on eternal, wrapped around one another until the boundary bled and it was unclear where he began and she ended. 

At least, that is how it had seemed to him.

I'm imagining things. 

After all, she was gone and he was alone again.

He sighed and got up; it was useless to dwell on it. He would see her again tonight and perhaps there would be an end to the uncertainty. He picked his phone up from the table and checked the time, it was nearly eleven and Ben and Graeme would soon arrive.
Shivering, he made his way to the shower and let the water wash away the remaining remnants of her scent.