Silence || Dreamnotfound Omegaverse

Chapter Nine: Morning

George POV 

My eyes flutter open the next morning, at an unfortunate early hour. The sun was up, light pouring into Clay's room from him only having his blinds down halfway. 

I try to force my eyes to shut again, practically begging for my body to allow me just a couple more hours of peace. However, school has inflicted a bad habit on me, the need to get up at an ungodly hour, even during the weekend. 

As sleep starts to wear off of me, I become aware of something resting on my stomach. It's heavy, and it's wrapped around almost my entire waist. I look down and see an arm slung over me. It just so happens to be attached to the alpha that is still sound asleep next to me. 

My eyes widen as I realize exactly what position we've been sleeping in. I become acutely aware of how close our bodies are pressed to each other, how I am instinctively pushing myself closer to him, melting under his warmth. 

No. Stop it.

 Don't let your stupid omega urges ruin your already fragile pride. 

I attempt to turn so I can see his face and not disturb him enough to bring him out of sleep. Clay is a notably light sleeper. 

I strain my neck and come somewhat face to face with the sleeping boy. His cheek is pressed into the pillow, his mouth hanging open just slightly. His sandy hair is hanging over his eyes, as well as sticking up in random places. 

I smile at the sight. Clay always did have a terrible bedhead. 

His freckles stand out in this lighting, like stars scattered across the night sky. When we were younger I used to trace them with my fingers, drawing constellations in my mind. There were a lot more of them now, and they weren't restricted to just his cheeks anymore. Some had made their way to his forehead and under his eyebrows, there were even some that were on the tops of his lips.  

His scent engulfed my entire body, surrounding my nose with nothing but pure ecstasy. It can be quite intoxicating, an alpha's scent, especially to an unmated omega. Clay was considered to be lucky in terms of his scent. Most alphas have rather potent aromas, which can be overwhelming at times. Clay's isn't as overbearing– still strong– but it's noticeably more appealing, which makes all the omegas at our school flounder when they are near him. 

I continue to study his face, taking in what has changed over the years and appreciating what has stayed the same.

I'm not sure how long I'm stuck in this trance-like state, but I begin to notice something. His eyebrows have become taut, furrowed together. His eyelids were no longer relaxed and resting peacefully but squinted together. 

The hand that rested underneath his pillow gripped the sheets so tightly that his knuckles were beginning to turn white. A similar thing was happening with the arm around my waist, its hold was becoming increasingly tight, not painfully, but enough for it to be uncomfortable. 

His breathing becomes rapid and shallow. He was almost wheezing as he exhaled– not in the funny haha, laughter sort of way– but as if his chest was squeezing around his lungs, making it almost impossible for him to breathe properly. His hot, sharp breaths hit the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. 

Concern and panic wash over me. I go to move my hand to the one that rested on my abdomen, hoping that maybe it would bring him back from whatever he was experiencing. 

Before I'm able to fully lift my hand Clay shoots up from his pillow, gasping for air. I can just barely see from the corner of my eye that he runs a hand hastily through his hair, resting his elbows on his bent knees. His head rests in his hands, trying to compose himself.