×My Beloved Alpha×

¦𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟐𝟐¦

“𝑨𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒂 𝒊𝒏 𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

The warmth of the afternoon sun spilled into the villa’s spacious living room, where Daishou lounged on the plush couch, flipping through the channels on the oversized television. A soft breeze from the open balcony doors carried the faint scent of the ocean, adding to the serene atmosphere. He let out a satisfied sigh, popping a grape into his mouth, feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.

Meanwhile, in his private study upstairs, Tetsurou sat at his desk, staring blankly at the array of documents and open notebooks before him. The pristine handwriting on the pages was a stark contrast to the chaos in his mind. His face remained as stoic as ever, but his fingers tapped nervously against the desk’s surface, a small crack in the composure he so meticulously maintained.

“Mom said to fix this,” Tetsurou muttered to himself, his deep voice almost a growl. “But how?”

His mind reeled back to the hospital—Daishou’s injured expression, his sharp words cutting through Tetsurou’s usual emotional armor like a blade. The memory stung more than he cared to admit.

Downstairs, Haru entered the living room with a tray of freshly brewed tea. “Enjoying yourself, Daishou?” he asked, setting the tray down on the coffee table with a gentle smile.

Daishou nodded, his snake-like yellow eyes glinting with amusement. “This place is nice. Overkill, maybe, but I won’t complain about luxury.”

Haru chuckled, taking a seat nearby. “Tetsurou can be excessive sometimes, but he means well. He’s just… not the best at showing it.”

Daishou tilted his head, letting the words sink in, before shrugging. “He’s complicated. I don’t even think he knows what he’s doing half the time.”

Upstairs, Tetsurou paced the length of his study, his mind running in circles. He wasn’t good at this—words, emotions, apologies. He barely knew how to express himself, let alone rebuild trust. His fists clenched at his sides as frustration bubbled beneath the surface.

He stopped at the window, looking out over the expansive garden below where Daishou had spent the morning walking around with Haru. “What am I supposed to do?” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

The knock on the door broke his thoughts. “Tetsurou, come down and have tea with us,” Haru’s voice called from the hallway.

“I’m busy,” Tetsurou replied flatly, though his jaw tightened.

Haru didn’t press further, leaving Tetsurou alone to wrestle with his thoughts. He sat back at his desk, pulling a notebook closer, and began scribbling a rough list. “Apology,” he wrote, then crossed it out. “Actions, not words,” he muttered to himself, circling the phrase.

Downstairs, Daishou stretched out on the couch, eyes on the television but mind wandering. He could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken weight between him and Tetsurou. Despite himself, a small part of him wondered if the stoic alpha upstairs was trying as hard as Haru claimed—or if he even cared at all.

The villa, though luxurious and peaceful, was anything but harmonious. And while Daishou found himself enjoying the calm for now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that a storm was brewing.

Sound of crashing objects then echoed around the villa, making Diasuke, Haru, and Daishou jolt out of their seats. The noise coming from Tetsurou's study grew louder. Haru, being engulf with his motherly instinct came running out of the master's bedroom and run straight where his son is. “Haru! What you're planning to do is dangerous!” Diasuke, shout as he followed his mate, worried that he might get hurt.