He ran barefoot without looking back. The streets were empty—pitch black, with no cars in sight.
Blood stained the snow on the ground, but the boy didn't care. He panted with every step, gasping for air. He wore nothing but a thin white gown that barely wrapped his skinny figure, torn and clinging to his body. His face was smeared with smoke. He appeared no older than thirteen.
Soon, his vision began to blur. He could hear something in the distance, approaching him—a cacophonic echo in his ears. Still running for his life, he searched his surroundings as darkness slowly crept in.
He couldn't make it.
Maybe they're going to catch me...
He thought.
Just then, a car rushed his way, crashing into him.
All along, it had been a vehicle honking at him.
Laying on the ground, the boy let out a soft, dry laugh. Perhaps that was how he was meant to die.
A pathetic, miserable death.
***
Night draped over the city, dark clouds towering over the tall buildings. The city lights flickered against the peach-orange sky like glimmering jewels.
The air carried the chill of late autumn while leaves blew on the streets, prickling against whoever walked by.
"It was nice working with everyone!"
Hiro bowed and stepped out of the shooting set, his dark long coat trailing behind him as his blond hair caught the glow of the streetlights. A faint smile tugged on his lips, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, as he made his way to the parking lot.
Another long exhausting day.
His black Porsche Cayenne waited for its owner at the parking lot. Sliding into the driver's seat, he placed his bag on the passenger's side, loosening his tie with a sigh. Then, he ran a hand through his already slightly dishevelled hair in the wind outside.
With the press of a button, the engine started, and soft music came out of the speakers.
The drive home tested his patience. The traffic stretched endlessly, the cacophony of honking horns blending with the soft background music of his car resulting in a headache.
Once the traffic lights flickered red, Hiro stopped the car and tapped his fingers, a restless rhythm against the steering wheel. His gaze shifted to the drops of water racing down the windshield, blurring his vision beyond.
"Ugh, fuck," he cursed under his breath. "Just the day I didn't bring an umbrella."
When he finally reached his apartment building, the downpour had soaked him through. Yet, despite the chill clinging to his skin, a faint smile tugged at his lips as he glanced at the bag in his arms—his most precious possession, his camera, dry and unscathed. He had protected it with his arms as one would to a candle to protect it from the strong wind.
His footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway, the soles of his shoes leaving wet smudges on the muddy floor. As he approached his door, a sound stopped him in his tracks—the faint murmur of a television from within.
He froze, his hand hovering over the digital lock. His breath hitched, a mixture of excitement and unease tightening in his chest.
He hesitated before unlocking the door with the PIN code and stepping inside, immediately noticing the pair of shoes resting neatly against the wall.
His heart skipped.
He's here.
The fatigue of the day melted away, replaced by a flicker of warmth that he tried to suppress. Hiro pulled out his phone, glancing at his reflection on the screen. Rainwater clung to the edges of his hair, droplets catching the faint glow spilling in from the living room.
He adjusted the camera, letting his undeniably handsome features fill the frame—his defined jawline, his piercing blue eyes and his small yet sharp nose.
I look okay… Right?
Taking a deep breath, he stepped fully inside, placing his bag carefully in its usual spot. He removed his soaked coat, hanging it in the closet near the entrance.
[Report has it that a young man with dangerous traits is roaming across the country,] the news played in the background.
"So, you're home?" The deep voice came from the living room, low but audible.
Hiro turned, his eyes adjusting to the dim glow of the television in the room, deprived of any ray of other light.
Felix sat there, leaning against the couch, his gaze fixed on the screen.
"Yeah," Hiro replied, his voice soft. "Why didn't you turn on the lights? It's so dark."
"Don't turn them on. It kills the mood," Felix replied, not bothered to look away from the television.
Hiro sighed, too tired to argue. He didn't want to irritate Felix—not tonight. The long working hours had worn out all of his energy.
"Did you eat? Are you hungry?" he asked, but Felix didn't respond, his attention locked on the screen.
Hiro told himself it didn't matter. "He's surely in a bad mood," he murmured to himself.
[Researcher instructed that if anyone comes across a man in his twenties with a scar or anything unusual on his body, please contact the police immediately. He is generous to both alphas and omegas. Next we have…]
Hiro stared at the TV, letting out a quiet laugh. As a beta, it didn't concern him.
Most of the news on television never did. Even the romance stories were all about alphas and omegas as if betas were non-existent. Maybe it was because alphas and omegas were rare, and most studied by scientists due to their unique traits.
Exhaling, Hiro headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.
The warm water did little to wash away the tight knot in his chest. Within a few minutes, he was already outside.
Afterward, he headed to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water before walking back into the living room. This time, he placed the glass on the table with a loud thud.
Felix finally shifted his gaze, the flickering light of the television reflecting in his grey eyes.
"Are you in a bad mood?" Hiro asked cautiously.
"What do you expect? They've been dragging me all over the country for weeks. And those omegas. Ugh, their pheromones almost killed me."
Hiro tried his best to hide his smile. At least Felix still felt the same about omegas.
At least his position in Felix's life was safe.
Still, Hiro hesitated. It had been over a month since the last time they'd seen each other.
These fleeting moments, when Felix decided to show up, were all he had. Otherwise, he only saw him on television or heard his voice during rushed calls. He barely ever received responses to his constant text messages, asking about Felix's health and his day.
Felix's eyes scanned the room.
"Your TV's tiny. It's annoying," he complained. Then, after a brief pause, he continued. "Turn on the lights already."
Without a word, Hiro compiled, flipping the switch.
The sudden brightness made Felix shield his eyes for a moment. As his eyes adjusted, his hand fell on the leather couch, revealing his sharp features—the kind that could stop someone's breath.
A strong jawline, a perfectly straight nose, soft dark curls that framed his face, and piercing grey eyes that landed on Hiro, making the man's heart race.
Hiro inhaled sharply.
This man was dangerous. His beauty alone was enough to stop Hiro from thinking about anything at all.
"Have you lost weight?" Hiro asked, sitting beside him and placing a tentative hand on Felix's broad shoulder.
Felix scoffed, leaning back and resting his head on Hiro's lap.
"That's the life of an actor. You shouldn't eat much either. If you get fat, you'll be ugly."
The words stung more than they should have. Hiro stared down at Felix, his mouth dry, bitter words lingering at the back of his throat.
And so? Would you leave me if I became ugly?
He wanted to ask but feared the answer far too much. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Felix's lips.
Felix smirked.
"You're the best. You always know what I need. I missed you. Did you miss me?"
The corner of Hiro's lips dropped. Even though he knew exactly whatFelix wanted from him, he still kept looking forward to the day his feelings would be shared.
Before he could respond, Felix rose from his lap, pushing him back against the couch, his lips capturing Hiro's in an aggressive kiss.
"F-Felix," Hiro gasped, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson against his pale complexion.
"What?" Felix's voice was low, almost teasing.