He Hates Me, He Loves Me Not

"Has anyone been expelled from your pack?"

Hearing the question, Damon is done. The ghost of indulgence that possessed him earlier has gone into the afterlife. There is no one left in the room except Damon and his fearless secretary.

"Oh!" Adam brings a hand to stifle his gasp. "I guess your ex-lover was part of—"

Damon doesn't let him finish. He stares Adam down and while holding his gaze, slowly peels one of the scent patches on the side of his neck. It's the only warning Adam gets before the pheromones of an irritated Alpha assault his senses.

Adam watches, as if in slow motion, as Damon peels the other one on his neck. If the pheromones before were of simple irritation, then now it has become those of anger and fury.

Goosebumps appear on the Beta's skin. A shiver runs from the top of his head to the end of his toes. The cold breeze from the air conditioning does nothing to help.

"Nevermind," Adam says while slowly backing away. "I don't want to know."

When the Alpha takes one step towards him, he bares his neck in a sign of submission. Adam doesn't even know he's doing it, his self-preservation instincts overriding in the face of a clear threat.

Damon doesn't speak. The muscles on his arms flex, crumpling the patches in his hand.

It's that silence that terrifies Adam, more than the scolding and the harsh glare.

"I forgot that I have something important to do," the Beta says with a nervous laugh. "Call me if you need anything, President."

With that, Adam bolts. He doesn't even look back at his boss as he practically runs through the hallway. All his screaming is done in his head, praying that whatever guardian angel is assigned to him keeps doing its best to keep him alive today.

--

Dylan hums an ambiguous tune as he makes himself another sandwich.

Today's late lunch is tuna and ham. Of course, this doesn't include the carbonara pasta and the honey garlic chicken he's waiting to be delivered. He's simply making a snack until his food arrives.

Normally, someone else does this for him, either the maids in his family home or one of his parents. However, returning to his apartment means being alone, even if it took quite some time before he's okay at staying in a place full of memories.

He cuts the sandwich into two triangles before grabbing his phone to check the time. There's a new drama he's been keeping an eye on, and he doesn't want to miss the pilot episode.

Dylan doesn't get a chance to check when his screen lights up with a call.

At this point, there are two people whose calls he readily accepts aside from his family.

The first one is from his manager, Tristan, who checks on him periodically despite being on a break. Tristan doesn't try to pry about what happened or if he's willing to return to work. He doesn't even blame Primo for the contracts and endorsements they had to drop.

Dylan knows that Primo Alca is important to the entertainment agency, especially after receiving his third award, but Tristan's concern for him goes beyond that of a normal manager asking about his celebrity's well-being. His manager calls, almost every day, to ask if he has eaten or if he slept well last night—and that's it. Sometimes, if he's feeling better, Primo teases Tristan by saying how much weight he gained, and the latter will merely laugh and tell him to enjoy it while he can.

He wants to say that the second one is Lucy, but the blonde Beta never calls. If Dylan wants to know something, he has to initiate, and even then, it seldom goes through. She only replies to his texts if he says something meaningful.

Naturally, the second person whose calls he accepts is that stupid, ugly Alpha. It's also him who's calling him right now.

With a swipe of his thumb, he answers the call.

"Baby!" Collin's voice says on the other end before Dylan can utter a word. "Are you home?"

"Why are you asking like you don't know?" Dylan asks after he takes a bite of his sandwich.

Collin's laugh is loud in the empty apartment. "Aunt Suzie told me you're not staying in their house."

"Yeah," he confirms, finishing the first triangle of his sandwich. "I'm at the apartment."

When the laughter dies down, Collin's tone turns more serious when he asks, "Are you okay?"

Dylan doesn't reply. He takes a big bite from the other triangle of his sandwich instead. However, how can Collin call himself Dylan's alpha if he doesn't know what this silence means?

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," the Alpha says, with no room for negotiation.

--

Dylan fully expects the doorbell to ring five minutes later. He doesn't expect to hear the telltale sound of someone inputting his passcode and the door swinging open without warning.

Still, he doesn't panic. He can smell the trespasser before he sees him.

Dylan is ready to yell at the Alpha for intruding on his privacy when he sees the two plastic bags on each of his hands. He recognizes it, of course. It's his food delivery.

He rushes to the entryway in record time.

Seeing his Omega run into his arms, Collin prepares himself for a big hug, but it never arrives.

Instead of Dylan jumping into his arms, he bends low and grabs the bags from Collin before the Alpha can figure out what's happening.

Collin watches as his Omega walks away from him, all while giggling, "It's here!"

The Alpha shakes his head, neither disappointed nor surprised that he lost to food. If anything, he takes it as a sign that he needs to step up and do better.

He follows Dylan into the kitchen, moving silently to assist in taking the food out of its packaging and putting them on nice plates. Even if his Omega is fine with devouring them as they are, Collin's inner alpha will cry if he sees Dylan not getting the treatment he deserves.

Naturally, his Omega only deserves the best, which means Collin is setting up the living room table, where he knows Dylan will want to watch that new drama while he munches on chicken wings. He also grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it with the pineapple juice that Dylan loves.

By the time everything is done, Dylan is sitting on the couch cross-legged, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders while his eyes are trained on the flat-screen TV.

Collin doesn't hesitate to pull his Omega's back to his chest, cuddling him in his arms. He doesn't bother with whatever show is on, not when watching Dylan stuff his cheeks is more entertaining.

They sit like that, neither of them talking, as Collin occasionally wipes the sauce on Dylan's face.

When the food is gone and the show is over, Dylan turns to Collin and asks, "Wasn't that good?"

Collin nods with a smile, although he hasn't got a clue what the show is about. After all, he'll do and say whatever it takes to see his Omega happy.

Dylan then proceeds to recap the episode, giving his commentary at his favorite scenes, and Collin listens with his full attention. Once finished, Collin finally understands that the show is a coming-of-age drama that promises heartwarming family scenes.

"They're the rookies my agency scouted recently," Dylan refers to the stars of the show, pride evident in his beautiful face. "I saw them practicing one time when I left the building late."

"Do you like them?" Collin asks, knowing what matters to him and what doesn't.

"Yeah," Dylan admits. "They're polite kids and they work hard. I can see that they also have talent, just need some polishing."

Then, slowly—treading carefully, Collin asks, "Do you miss going to work?"

--

Once Adam is gone, Damon falls back on the bed. He tries to relax his tense body, but he has overexerted himself in an act of intimidation.

He's recovering quickly, frighteningly so, but his body is nowhere near what it used to be. Take this moment, for example. It has been an hour or two past noon, yet there's no energy left in him. He'll probably be sleeping until dinnertime, and that's only if he stops having nightmares.

Damon closes his eyes, trying to block the white ceiling out of his sight. The headache he's been ignoring has grown from a dull ache to map the entirety of his left side.

He can't be like this, he knows. He has to recover first before he can return to work, but he's still reeling from the recent revelations.

Why has Heath done that? Was he so unhappy in their relationship that he felt the need to manipulate him?

Try as he may, Damon can't conjure a hundred answers when he knows there's only one. Although it pains him to admit, the betrayal hurts not because of the years he spent with Heath, but because he can understand why his childhood friend did it.

Deep down, he knows.