The first light of morning filtered through the curtains, casting a soft warmth across Eren's pale skin.
He shifted slightly, his long red hair tumbling over his shoulders, and slowly opened his eyes. The weight of the previous night still lingered, but he pushed himself upright and drew in a deep breath.
The world outside might have seemed calm and ordinary, but within him, the storm never truly rested. Swinging his legs down from the bed, his lean frame stretched, as though he were trying to shake off the unease buried in his body. He took a cold shower, refreshing himself.
Afterward, dressed neatly in his college uniform, smoothing his hair into place, he slipped on the mask he wore for everyone else: confident, composed, untouchable.
When he entered the dining hall, he found his family already seated around the table.
"Good morning," Eren said, his soft voice carrying just enough warmth—neither too much, nor too little.
Darius, his father, gave only a brief nod in response, though the sharpness in his eyes still cut like a blade. His mother, Selene, smiled gently as always and said, "Eren, come, sit and have breakfast." His sister passed him a warm smile as well, while his older brother merely rolled his eyes.
Eren sat down quietly, offering small gestures of greeting—light smiles, slight bows of his head. Outwardly, he was the perfect son: composed, polite, disciplined. But inside, the shadow of the previous night still clung to him, reminding him that even beyond this house, in the world outside, every step had to be carefully measured.
Every move, every word—calculated.
Every glance, every smile—serving a purpose.
And beneath it all, his true self—fragile, sensitive, a storm in silence—continued to burn quietly.
As soon as he sat down, he could sense the subtle tension in the room. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, gleaming against the polished silverware, but Eren hardly noticed. His attention was caught only by his father's piercing gaze, watching him like a predator.
Eren lowered his head slightly, averting his eyes from that heavy stare.
His older brother, Ryker, leaned back in his chair with a smirk. "Careful, little brother. Wouldn't want Father to spot any flaws in you."
A faint, controlled smile touched Eren's lips. "I'm fine," he replied calmly. "Just focusing on breakfast."
Ryker chuckled, shaking his head. "Focusing, huh? You always take everything so seriously. Maybe try lightening up once in a while."
Darius' gaze flicked between them both, a silent warning in his eyes. "Lighten up? Focus is what keeps you in control. Remember that."
After breakfast, Darius rose from his seat. "I'll drive you to college today," he said. His tone seemed casual, but the pressure beneath it was unmistakable. "It's important to arrive on time… and properly composed."
In the Car
The ride began in silence. Only the hum of the engine filled the space. Eren sat upright, hands resting neatly in his lap, his face composed, though tension still coiled within him.
Finally, Darius spoke, his voice low, controlled, almost intimate.
"Remember, Eren… behave properly. Don't waste words on anyone. Especially on other Omegas, or anyone who might distract you. I don't want you wandering or getting sidetracked—you must keep your focus where it belongs."
Eren's jaw tightened slightly. He nodded, eyes fixed ahead, pretending the words had no effect.
"You know what happens when I get angry," Darius continued, eyes on the road, though the weight of his warning pressed against Eren's chest like ice. "So be obedient, Eren."
Eren stayed silent. The words sank into him, tightening his heart. Every look, every command, every unspoken rule from his father reminded him of the same truth: he had to keep the mask intact. He had to bury his weakness.
And in this world of control and obsession, survival was the only choice