The garden was quiet. Moonlight washed over the stone path and glistened against the dew-covered leaves. Avery stood still, hands buried in his coat pockets, his breath fogging slightly in the night air.
The cool breeze brushed against his overheated skin, calming his senses, but doing little to ease the unease that sat heavy in his chest.
What the hell is wrong with me?
He had never felt this way before.
Not just the sharp tug in his chest when he saw Noël curled up in pain. Not just the aching, primal urge to stay close when Noël clung to him, whispering his name like it meant something. But everything. All of it.
Since when did I care so much about people?
He let out a quiet breath, eyes flicking to the stars above, clouded only by the mess in his own mind.
At first, he'd assumed it was just guilt, pity maybe, for an Omega going through a rough patch. But it wasn't. Guilt didn't feel like this. He wasn't supposed to notice things like the way Noël's lashes fluttered when he was asleep, or the sound of his laugh when he thought no one was listening in the kitchen.
And it certainly wasn't guilt that made him want to rip apart anyone who tried to hurt Noël.
No… It's not guilt.
The realization settled into him like a confession.
He was attracted to Noël.
There was no denying it anymore. The signs had been there from the very beginning since that quiet afternoon outside the laundromat. Something had pulled at him back then. He didn't pay attention to it, of course. He'd brushed it off, like he always did with anything remotely emotional.
But now…
Now it was too loud to ignore.
He ran a hand through his hair, fingers catching at the roots.
Why him? Why so fast?
It had barely been a week. He didn't even know Noël that well just the surface, the fragile smiles, the quiet discipline in the way he worked, the moments of silence that held far more emotion than words ever could.
But still. He couldn't get him out of his mind.
This is bad.
And yet, even as the thought crossed his mind, he didn't feel panic. Not exactly.
He felt resolve.
He didn't know what would come next, or how long Noël would stay. But one thing was clear he wanted to protect him. Whether or not Noël ever wanted anything more from him didn't matter.
Avery just wanted him to be safe.
------
Inside the house, Miss Reed gently laid a cooling cloth over Noël's forehead. The Omega had fallen asleep again, breathing softly, his body no longer trembling as violently as before.
She moved around the room with quiet efficiency placing the suppressants on the nightstand, adjusting the dimmed lighting, laying out a new change of clothes in case he woke up disoriented.
It wasn't her first time caring for someone during heat. But something about Noël felt different. Softer. More vulnerable. Like a wild animal that had spent years in the dark, suddenly pulled into the open.
Once everything was in place, she stood and took one last look at the sleeping Omega. His lips were slightly parted, brow still furrowed, but the worst seemed to have passed.
She stepped outside and found Avery standing at the far end of the garden, his figure lit by the garden lamps.
"Mr. Cheng" she called softly.
He turned to face her.
"Noël is stable," she said. "He'll still need rest for a few days, but he's sleeping now."
Avery gave a silent nod, his eyes lowering.
"I'll be back tomorrow morning to check in," she added. "Call me if anything changes."
"Thank you," he replied, voice quiet.
She gave a slight smile. "You care about him, don't you?"
He didn't answer. Not out loud. But his silence said more than words.
With a soft nod, Miss Reed left, the sound of the front door clicking closed behind her.
------
Inside, the house was still saturated with Noël's scent but it had calmed now. It was no longer an overwhelming trigger. Instead, it was something grounding. Comforting.
Avery lingered near the staircase, debating whether to go up and check on him one last time but the rational part of him knew better.
Don't make it harder for him or for yourself.
His room was upstairs. Just down the hall from Noël's.
That wouldn't work.
He walked past the staircase and down the hallway, stopping in front of a door he hadn't opened in years.
It used to be one of his nanny's room, back when she still lived with them before she'd decided to retire and return to her home village. She'd raised him more than his own mother had.
He turned the handle and stepped inside.
The room still smelled faintly of lavender and sun-dried sheets.
He sat on the bed slowly, his shoulders finally slumping under the weight of the evening.
Everything was different now.
And he didn't know how to handle it.
----------
The next morning, Noël woke up at around 5 a.m., his body feeling sore but lighter. The fever had broken. He blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, taking in the sight of the cooling pads on his arms and forehead, the water bottle beside his bed, and the faint scent of calming herbs lingering in the room. There were signs of care everywhere. Things he didn't remember asking for. His breath caught in his throat. Who…?
He slowly pushed himself up and sat at the edge of the bed. His mind was still hazy, the memory of last night a messy blur. He remembered the pain. The heat. The unrelenting ache. Then someone… Avery? Was he there?
His heart thudded with fear. What did I do? Did I say something stupid? Did I lose control?
Panicked, Noël stumbled toward the kitchen, hoping to clean or work. To do something, anything that would prove he was still useful. Still worthy of the job. But the kitchen was dim and empty. No pots boiling, no footsteps, no sound at all. The eerie quietness wrapped around him like a warning.
Defeated, he turned around and crept back upstairs, hoping a shower would clear his mind and calm the anxiety twisting in his gut.
But as soon as he laid down on his bed again, sleep pulled him back under.
When he woke again, it was with a jolt. The sun was higher. He had overslept. No no no.
He scrambled to the bathroom and took a quick shower, his hands trembling as he dressed. But then… stew?
The warm, rich scent drifted up the stairs. Stew… from yesterday?
With his shirt barely buttoned, Noël rushed down to the kitchen. He froze at the doorway.
Avery Cheng, still dressed in yesterday's clothes, stood over the stove reheating the meal Noël had started but never finished. The CEO usually pristine, poised, and distant looked surprisingly human. Tired. Slightly rumpled. And entirely out of place in a domestic setting.
Avery turned slightly, sensing the presence behind him. His eyes landed on Noël, who looked like a cornered animal, wide-eyed and nervous.
"You're awake," Avery said, voice calm but cool as ever. "How are you feeling?"
"I-I'm better," Noël replied, barely above a whisper, his voice cracking.
Avery noted the tension in Noël's posture. He looked… terrified. Was it because of me?
"Sit. You need to eat," he said, motioning to the table.
Noël hesitated, then stepped forward, trying to hide the panic swirling inside him. He reached for plates and cutlery. "I can help"
"No," Avery interrupted, sharper than intended. "Just sit."
He meant it as concern. He didn't want Noël exerting himself so soon but his tone landed heavy in the quiet kitchen. Cold. Commanding. Noël flinched as if struck.
He lowered himself into the chair and said nothing.
Avery placed the stew down in front of him and returned to the counter. A strange silence filled the space, but it wasn't peaceful. It was tense.
Then, a quiet sniff.
Avery turned sharply. Noël had lowered his head, one hand over his mouth, his shoulders trembling slightly.
Is he… crying?
Panic bloomed in Avery's chest. "Noël?"
No response.
"Noël," he said again, softer this time.
Noël wiped at his cheeks quickly. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm fine, I just..." He broke off. His throat felt tight, and tears he hadn't even known he was holding back finally slipped through.
It wasn't the heat.
It was everything. Years of holding it in. Of being strong. Of not being seen.
Avery stood frozen, unsure what to do with this raw, broken version of Noël. He had seen people cry before—hell, he'd made people cry. But this was different. This wasn't manipulation. It wasn't weakness.
It was exhaustion.
Avery stepped closer. Hesitated. Then, for the first time in years, he spoke gently. "You don't have to apologize."
Noël's head snapped up, red-eyed and trembling.
"You didn't mess up," Avery added, voice more certain now. "You're not fired."
Noël blinked, stunned. "I'm… not?"
Avery gave a slow shake of his head. "No. You didn't do anything wrong."
And just like that, Noël broke again. This time into silent sobs, his hands gripping the table's edge.
Avery didn't touch him. He didn't know how. But he sat across from him, quietly, letting Noël cry.
It was the first time someone had told Noël he hadn't done anything wrong. And it was the first time Avery had stayed to see someone fall apart without walking away.