Page 95 of Omega's Secret Guardian
“So beautiful,” Storm whispered, on his knees in front of Linus, his palms gently dragging soap up and down Linus’ legs. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of doing this.”
Linus wet his lips. This was something Storm had been reluctant to admit. “How long?”
Storm lowered his gaze, his cheeks turning pink. Eventually, he said, “Four years.”
“Four...? But that’s... You’ve... Since the start of your undergrad course?” Linus yelped.
Storm smiled and kissed his hip. “Why do you think I enrolled? I found you and wanted to know more.”
Four years.Years.Linus looked down at himself and saw only a too-thin body with the occasional silvery scar, left behind by alphas who had not watched their strength around him. Storm was attracted tothis?
“Where did you get this from?” Storm murmured, thumbing a long thin scar on Linus’ hip.
This time, it was Linus’ turn to hesitate. “Dert. He—Sometimes he threw things at me.”
“Like what?”
“Cartons of broth. Steak knives. Cans of soup.”
Storm tensed, his eyes turning flinty. “That your ex? Is that why you look out for the first aid aisle at the drugstore?”
Linus winced. “Yes.”
Dert would always be one of the things he regretted most.
“But you’ve moved, right? This isn’t where you lived when you were with him.”
“I’ve moved. But I just... I feel safer, knowing where things are if I need them. I have a well-stocked first aid kit, too.”
Storm exhaled heavily, pressing his forehead against Linus’ hip. “Fuck.”
“It’s in the past,” Linus mumbled.
“If it is, then why are you still scared?”
Linus bit his lip. He didn’t really want to answer that question. Instead, he looked at the gleaming swords tattooed across Storm’s strong shoulders, the black flames licking up his chest.
There was a curious spot in the middle of the flames, three inches across, where there was absolutely no ink. Fire curved around that spot protectively—it sat to the left of Storm’s sternum, right over his heart.
“What’s this?” Linus asked, touching that inkless spot.
Storm blinked. He looked down. And the tips of his ears turned pink. “Ah. I, uh. I wasn’t ready to have that filled in yet.”
“Why not? What are you waiting for?”
Somehow, Storm’s ears turned redder. “It’s, um, personal.”
“Are you—shy?” Linus blurted. Then he could’ve kicked himself. Who pointed out awkward things like that?
“Just self-conscious,” Storm mumbled. “I’m saving that for the future.”
“It must be a really special tattoo.”
“You havenoidea. I was just—waiting on someone’s opinion.”
Abruptly, a pang of envy struck Linus’ chest. Who did Storm care so much about, that he wanted their opinion on his tattoo? Right over his heart?
His parents, probably. Maybe Storm was waiting for their forgiveness before he put their names there.
