Fallen General's Omega (BL)

It had been a month since Thorne had left for the border, and the knot of anxiety growing in Noelle’s chest had only tightened with each passing day. Thorne should be back by now, he thought, his heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty. Every morning when he awoke, his body instinctively reached for the warmth of his Alpha beside him, only to be met with cold sheets and the stark reminder of his absence. It gnawed at him, that hollow emptiness that only Thorne could fill.

Noelle sat in the greenhouse, the familiar scent of earth and greenery usually soothing him, but today it offered little comfort. The warmth of the sun filtering through the glass panes felt oppressive rather than gentle. He missed Thorne. Missed his strong, steady presence, the way his arms would wrap around him, making everything in the world feel right, if only for a moment. His absence was a constant ache, a whispering reminder that Noelle was alone.

Next to him, Oliver sat quietly, his body cushioned by the soft chair as he absentmindedly ran a hand over his swollen belly. He had taken to wearing baggy shirts recently, his pregnancy becoming more noticeable by the day. Only three months along, yet his glow was unmistakable—an aura of life growing within him, one that Noelle couldn’t help but notice.

Oddly enough, Noelle didn’t feel any of the resentment or animosity that had plagued him in the beginning. Time had softened the jagged edges of those emotions. Oliver had found his place with Victor, and they seemed... happy, well content. What he felt now, as he looked at Oliver, was something different. It was envy.

Not for the pregnancy, but for the simple fact that Oliver had his mate by his side. Every time Noelle saw the way Victor cared for Oliver—how he would fuss over him, touch him with gentle reverence—it felt like a knife twisting in his chest. He missed Thorne. He missed the tenderness, the safety, the attention, the love.

As soon as Victor steps into the greenhouse, Noelle feels a shift in the atmosphere, a weight settling over him that makes it hard to breathe. It’s subtle, unintentional on Victor’s part, but undeniable. The moment Victor enters, the space feels smaller, more suffocating, and the sanctuary Noelle once cherished no longer feels like his own.

Without saying a word, Noelle rises to his feet, the need to leave pressing in on him. It’s not Victor’s fault, not really, but Noelle can’t help the way his heart aches when he sees them—Victor and Oliver—together. The way Victor’s gaze softens when he looks at Oliver, the gentle care in his movements as he fusses over him, is a constant reminder of what Noelle is missing.

It hurts, though he knows it’s irrational to feel this way. He doesn’t begrudge them their happiness, but envy, sharp and bitter, gnaws at him all the same.

As Noelle moves to leave, he feels a small flutter of wings and then the light pressure of Grape, landing on his head. He reaches up, his fingers brushing softly against the bird’s feathers. Grape’s presence, as always, is a small comfort. Noelle wonders if the bird is trying to comfort him or simply avoiding the more aggressive Mona, who often chases Grape around the greenhouse. Still, he finds a bit of solace in the tiny creature’s companionship.

For a moment, Noelle glances back at Victor and Oliver. They’re lost in their own quiet world, their conversation soft and intimate, unaware of the silent storm raging inside Noelle. He takes a deep breath, feeling the heaviness of it settle in his chest. There’s no place for him here, not right now, not when the absence of Thorne feels like an open wound that refuses to heal.

With Grape perched securely on his head, Noelle silently turns and walks out of the greenhouse. The earthy scent of plants and warm soil lingers in the air behind him, but the warmth of the space that once brought him comfort feels distant now, as if it belongs to another life.