Winter was fast approaching, and Noelle was making sure everything was in place. The pantry was steadily filling with rice, flour, and other non-perishable foodstuffs, ready to see them through the cold months. The makeshift greenhouse had been completed after months of work, and now the herbs growing inside were thriving. Ben had been helping sell some of them to a local pharmacy, bringing in a little extra money that kept things running smoothly. It was a small victory, one that Noelle felt proud of.
After finishing his tasks in the kitchen, Noelle stepped outside into the crisp autumn air, breathing in deeply as he made his way toward the clearing. That's when he saw him—Thorne.
Thorne was exercising again, his body moving with fluid precision as he pulled himself up and down the ledge Ben had built. Noelle stopped in his tracks, eyes fixed on the mesmerizing sight. Thorne's back muscles shifted with every pull-up, defined and strong, his skin glistening under the soft light of the afternoon sun. The sight was magnetic, drawing Noelle in as he stood there, watching in quiet admiration.
There was something undeniably attractive about the way Thorne moved—controlled, powerful, and yet graceful. Each pull-up seemed effortless, the steady rhythm of his body moving in perfect sync with his breath. Noelle's eyes trailed down the lines of his back, following the way his muscles contracted and released, every motion revealing a man in his element.
His heart beat a little faster as his gaze lingered on Thorne's broad shoulders, the way they flexed with each pull-up, and then moved down to the defined curve of his waist. He found himself biting the inside of his cheek, a warmth rising in him that had nothing to do with the sun. There was a raw, masculine beauty in Thorne's movements that Noelle couldn't ignore, and it pulled at him, made him want to get closer.
Noelle's lips quirked up into a soft smile. He leaned against the doorframe, letting himself indulge in the sight for just a moment longer. Thorne didn't know how intoxicating he could be, how every subtle shift of his muscles seemed to catch Noelle's breath in his throat.
As Thorne lowered himself back down one final time, their eyes met. Noelle felt a slight jolt, like he'd been caught watching, but he didn't look away. Instead, he let his gaze stay on Thorne, unspoken desire shimmering in the space between them. Thorne gave him a small, knowing smirk, as if he could feel the weight of Noelle's gaze and welcomed it.
Noelle pushed off the doorframe, walking towards him. "You're going to make me lose track of time if you keep doing that," he said, his tone light but the heat in his eyes unmistakable.
Thorne chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Just trying to keep myself in shape," he replied, his voice low and rough from exertion.
Noelle raised an eyebrow, the hint of a playful grin on his lips. "Well, you're succeeding," he murmured, letting his hand brush against Thorne's arm as he passed, feeling the warmth of his skin, the firmness of his muscles beneath his fingertips. He could feel the tension between them, that electric pull, and it made his pulse quicken.
Thorne smirked, his eyes darkening as they followed Noelle's movement. He knew exactly what he was doing to him—and Noelle didn't mind one bit.
*
I watch Noelle walk away, and as soon as he's out of sight, I reach for my crude cane. It's a wobbly little thing, not much to look at, but it does the job. As I stand there, leaning on it, I catch myself smirking like a fool. It's been months since we've been together, and I've been trying—slowly but surely—to nudge our relationship into something more... romantic. It's working, albeit at a snail's pace.
My body burns from the exertion, every muscle sore in the best way possible, but I relish the feeling. There's something satisfying about pushing myself to my limits again, even if it's not quite the same as it used to be. And then there's the way Noelle looks at me—that spark of something deeper, though he tries to hide it behind his calm exterior.
For a guy who calls himself my omega, Noelle sure isn't acting very omega-ish. I mean, the omegas back in the capital would have thrown themselves at me in an instant, eager for any kind of attention. But Noelle? He's got nerves of steel. He doesn't give in easily, and honestly, that's one of the things that drives me crazy about him. It's like he's got some kind of invisible wall between us, something I just can't seem to break through.
I shake my head, a sigh escaping my lips. Am I not attractive enough for him? That's ridiculous. I know I am. Even in this battered state, I'm still the same man who once had suitors lining up for a chance to get close. But with Noelle, it feels different. It's like we're... roommates, more than anything else. There's no rush, no desperation, no head-over-heels swooning. He doesn't make it easy for me, and I can't decide whether that frustrates me or makes me want him more.
I glance down at my cane, giving it a little shake, as if it's to blame for my slow progress. I let out another sigh, this one deeper, more frustrated. What am I doing wrong?
But even as I stand there, stuck in my thoughts, the image of Noelle's eyes—how they lingered on me, how his gaze felt like a caress—flashes in my mind. There's something there, beneath the surface. Maybe I just have to be patient.