The New Divorcée | L.S. MPreg | OmegaxAlpha

.Chapter Three.

A/N: Harry's outfit *that little fire emoji*

And damn it he's nervous. And damn it he keeps stumbling over his stupid-as-fuck pigeon toed feet. And damn it he keeps picking at his clothes and nails. And damn it for whatever the Hell that delicious smell that's wafting through the air of Shadow pack is.

Screw his mother for giving him the talk about making a good impression on this Alpha because "maybe the legendary white coated alpha will be Harry-the-whore from Sun packs soulmate?" Who knows? Harry motherfucking does. Of course Louis fucking Tomlinson isn't his mate. And of fucking course this is the only time he's going to see the mighty man. And fuck - what is that gorgeous aroma?

Screw his father for giving him the judgemental look right before he left the house because now Harry's self conscious. Is his shirt too see-through? Are his jeans too tight? Do his fringe covered boots make him look that gay? Does he look too desperate? Too overdone? Did he try too hard? Is he overthinking this? Obviously.

Screw Zayn fucking Malik for making him do this and not giving him the address of which house actually belonged to the alpha. For making him knock on the door of some omega housewife who was obviously not happy to have a prostitute from the pack next door on her doorstep when she was in the middle of whatever the Hell she was doing. For looking like a dumbass and asking random pups and betas for directions which he seldom got an answer to. When he did get an answer, it was always just a subtle "right" or "left" or "go straight towards the big house with the lawn and make a left, it's the one right next to it" because all the fucking houses on this side of the river are motherfucking big and have a motherfucking lawn.

Screw the alpha with the black hair and the big nose who thinks he's so much better than Harry because Harry is just a male omega whore, which is apparently very obvious to this pack, and he is a big almighty alpha who has a girlfriend who hangs off his every word and everything. He's so amazing with his baggy jeans and gray Converse and black jacket and fucking sunglasses. Isn't he just amazing?

Screw this platinum blonde fake ass bitch who treats him like a fucking disease. Seriously, it was her fucking kid who ran into him and he was just so desperate to find out where the alpha's house is so he asked the little brunette boy, serving his point if it wasn't obvious that the mother dyes her hair, where the house is. But of course right as the kid was about to tell him, she ran up in her high-ass heels and mini skirt and grabbed his arm, glaring at Harry like he was a fucking rat or something and dragged her son away as the son - the boy who couldn't be any older than five - apologized about the mother and she cursed him out for trying to molest her son or some shit. It honestly wasn't his fault and it will honestly come back to bite her in the seat-meat, but no one knows that yet.

If you haven't caught up yet, Harry is very, very, very frustrated and his feet hurt from these fucking heels and so far he really does not like Shadow pack at all. He finally spots a large white house and he's honestly so fed up so he just goes for it, stomping up the marble stairs and hammering his fist on the door. He's honestly so done with his life right now. He just wants directions. Maybe some water. But that's it. He's not asking for much.

He places his hand on the door frame, leaning against the crook of his elbow and letting out a long, breathy sigh. The door is flung open, the sweet, intoxicating scent clouding Harry's mind as he blinks up - up - at the person that answered the door.

Standing there is a gorgeous man, his hair tousled and blue eyes wide. He has a bit of scruff dotting his lips and chin and Harry's eyes widen. Tattoos are littered up and down this man's tan arms. Harry straightens himself up involuntarily, his head still going to this man's nose - and that's a generous comparison (a/n: please use your imagination). His hard eyes give Harry a once over, stopping right at his face.