It was all good until I found

One shot

In the quiet corner of the bustling city, a man named Ohm stood, his shoulders squared and eyes sharp, watching the world rush by. He was an alpha, a status that was unmistakable in his stance, the way his fur ruffled in the wind, and the occasional growl that escaped his throat when someone dared to cross his path too closely. His presence was like a storm brewing, powerful and unpredictable. Those who knew him well were aware of his temper, a fiery blaze that could ignite at the slightest provocation.

Ohm's husband, Leng, was the opposite. A gentle omega with a heart so tender it was as if it could shatter at any moment. His eyes, though beautiful and soulful, held a sadness that spoke volumes of his inner turmoil. Leng had been diagnosed with a rare hallucinatory disorder, a condition that painted his reality with vivid, often terrifying images that weren't there. The medication helped, but it was a constant battle to keep the phantoms at bay. Despite his fragility, Leng was resilient, enduring each day with a quiet strength that often surprised those around him.

Their relationship was a delicate dance of dominance and submission, love and fear. Ohm's need for control was both a comfort and a cage to Leng. On one hand, he craved the security of Ohm's protective nature, the way he shielded Leng from the harshness of the world. On the other, Leng felt suffocated by the very thing that kept him safe. The hallucinations were a constant reminder of his vulnerability, a stark contrast to Ohm's unyielding power.

One evening, Ohm returned from a particularly grueling day at work to find Leng standing in the kitchen, eyes fixated on an empty dish. The scene was eerily still, the air thick with unspoken tension. Leng's trembling hands reached out, as if to serve something that wasn't there, his gaze never leaving the void before him. Ohm's instincts kicked in, his heart racing as he approached his husband with caution. "Leng?" he called out, his voice a low rumble. No response. The silence was deafening, the kind that made Ohm's fur stand on end.

As he moved closer, he could see the sheen of tears in Leng's eyes, the way his pupils dilated and contracted rapidly. It was clear he was lost in one of his episodes. Ohm felt a pang of helplessness, his dominant nature screaming at him to fix this, to make it right. But he knew that Leng's world was one he couldn't control. Carefully, he placed a hand on Leng's shoulder, feeling the tension coiled within the smaller man. Leng flinched but didn't pull away, his eyes flickering towards Ohm, then back to the empty dish. "Leng," Ohm said again, his voice softer this time. "What do you see?"

The omega's breath hitched, his eyes darting around the room before focusing on the invisible meal. "It's... it's beautiful," he murmured. "I made your favorite." His voice was filled with a mix of pride and despair, as if the delusion was a treasure he couldn't bear to let go of. The sight of Leng's trembling form, trying so hard to maintain normalcy, was almost more than Ohm could bear. He leaned in, his nose brushing Leng's cheek, inhaling the faint scent of fear that clung to him.

"Leng," Ohm said gently, "it's not real." His heart ached as he watched the omega's expression crumble. The hallucination was powerful tonight, and Leng's mind was fighting a hard battle. With a tremble in his own voice, he added, "Come sit with me." He guided Leng to the living room, the air in the house feeling heavier with each step. Leng's gaze remained on the dish, his hands hovering as if to carry it with them. Ohm took the plate from his grasp, setting it aside before leading him to the sofa.

The omega's eyes remained unfocused, his breaths shallow. Ohm could see the fear in the way Leng's pupils danced, searching for something that wasn't there. He sat beside him, wrapping a comforting arm around Leng's shoulders, his touch grounding and warm. "Look at me," he whispered, his voice a soft command that Leng couldn't ignore. The omega's gaze met his, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. The hallucinations didn't vanish, but Ohm was there, solid and real.