The New Divorcée | L.S. MPreg | OmegaxAlpha

.Chapter Eight.

Louis pressed the heels of his palms into his forehead, the pressure overwhelming, consuming his brain as he leans down, pressing his head against the damp wood. Juggling the repairs on Sun Pack, the death of his father, and his mother being constantly on his back about every little thing he does wrong ('pack alphas don't do this' 'pack alphas don't do that') has been steadily building in the back of his skull, and his eyes, but of course, he won't admit to that. The overwhelming pressure has his stomach churning and throat clenching around nothing and it's in that moment he realizes he hasn't eaten for a while. Maybe a few minutes, maybe a few hours, maybe a few days, who motherfucking knows? His heavy eyelids beg to be fallen and all his muscles ache, his shoulders tense and back in knots.

With a growl, he leans back, his eyes slipping shut and hand coming up to cover his feverish forehead. Maybe just a few...short...seconds...

The door clicks open, creaking ever-so-softly as the wood scrapes against the dark colored floor. Fucking shit! Just as Louis is about to jump to his feet and curse whoever this bastard is out, a sweet smell surrounds him, enveloping his form and he already feels all the tiredness and anger and dread seeping out of his pores. He doesn't even have to open his eyes to rasp out, "Hey, sweetheart," and close his eyes again. 

Harry padded across the dark wood, his bare feet slapping with the softest sound. He hesitated, wringing his hands, which were positioned right in front of his flipping stomach. It isn't his fault he's nervous. Omegas were told to never go around an alpha that isn't theirs when they're stressed. They might snap and being a natural submissive, the omega will give themselves to the alpha, letting them do whatever to calm down.

So Harry nibbles his bottom lip, taking the liberty to settle his small frame in one of the plush, black leather chairs sitting to face the alpha. His torso doesn't lean against the curved back of the chair, sitting as tall as he can.

His throat aches with anxiety, hands shaking just the tiniest bit as he rubs the moisture that has collected on his palms on his dirtied jeans. "I..." he opens his mouth to speak before the words get garbled and he clamps his lips shut again, pursing them in a fine line.

Louis squeezes his eyes tighter, removing his hand from his forehead. "Why are you so nervous? I'm not going to hurt you or anything of that..." he clears the rasp from his parched throat, tongue darting out to wet his pink lips. "...that sort," he finishes.

The smaller shrugs his shoulders, glancing up for a just a second, meeting the olders electric blue eyes before letting them fall back into his lap. "I-I know, but...I just want to - uh - make sure..."

"Make sure of what?" Louis presses.

Harry shrugs again, wiping his palm over the sleek arm of the chair. "That you won't hurt me..." he whispers softly. "It's just...what we were taught when we were younger."

"I understand," he says quickly, pushing off of the floor with his bare feet, the wheels of the chair rolling on the laminent. "Come," he demands curtly, patting his lap.

The omega blushes, standing and, clumsily, shuffling around the large dark desk to situate himself on the elder's lap, facing away from his face. Louis pushes himself into the desk, settling his chin on Harry's soft, cloth covered shoulder. He continues to type away on his laptop, his fingers moving nimbly over the short keys. Harry watches, finally, his eyes growing heavy, his arms laying by his sides, hands resting lightly on his lap. He lays back, his eyelids slipping shut until his mind flips off into the dream world, right on Louis' shoulders.

When he wakes up, his knees are pulled up to his chest, his head nestled in between them and back arched against the back of the chair. The air is cold, curtains drawn closed to block out the heavy, drowsy weather. His muscles scream to be released from their misery and he quickly stands, his mind blurring as he stretches wide, his legs and arms vibrating uncontrollably. His vision spots and head muddles through a swamp before he falls to the ground on all fours, back arching.

The door creaks open, hinges squeaking as Louis pushes into his room, eyes tired and hair mussed from hands running through it. Harry immediately jumps up, his head spinning as he clasps his hands behind his back. He squeaks, cheeks flaming when he realises that his bottom half is almost completely naked, leaving him in just his briefs. 

He moves his hands right in front of crotch, confused since the man in front of him has seen him in way less clothing than a long T-shirt and underwear. Just the idea has his cheeks reddening and chin lowering, unruly curls flopping in front of his eyes. 

The bed dips slightly under the alphas weight as he plops down, eyes closing harshly as he falls back, quite a dramatic sigh leaving his lips. Harry shuffles over, his lips nearly bitten raw before setting on the edge of the bed, right by Louis' knees. He rubs a shaking hand over the elders stomach. 

"Have you eaten anything lately?" he asks quietly. Louis shakes his head, refusing to open his eyes. "I'll go get you something. You need to eat something. What do you want?"

Louis shakes his head back and forth, reaching up blindly for Harry's hand. "C-can you just...stay here? Just cuddle? Please."

"But...but you need to...to eat and -"

"Shut up and cuddle me," Louis groans, wrapping his arms around Harry's slim waist and pulling him down.

"But -"

Louis hikes his leg up, his knee on Harry's hip, thigh across his crotch, and calf pressing the side of the smaller boys thigh. He wraps his arms around his waist and lays his temple on the curve of Harry's shoulder. He shakes his head, mumbling, "Shut up, curly." 

Harry chuckles, carding his long fingers through Louis' messy, sexed-up looking hair. He feels the body next to him grow heavier and heavier. He whispers, "It's okay to cry, you know? To everyone else, you're their leader. You're their rock, and you are mine too, don't get me wrong, but in this room, behind that door, you are just you. You are just a normal person. You are not over me, unless you want to be, of course, and you can tell me anything. You can confide in me, trust me, love me. You can take anything out of me, you can show me anything, tell me anything, and I will not judge you. You have seen me at my worst and at my best, and I can only reward the same to you. It isn't fair any other way."

Quiet. A still, tension filled blanket settles over the room and Harry just rubs over his back, closing his eyes and letting sleep take over for the second time that day. And if he felt a few tears drip down onto his collar bone just before he slipped, then no one has to know.

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A/N: I have finals next Monday and Tuesday, so I might be updating a lot this weekend, maybe not, maybe after, who knows?

-M-