Timi’s palms wrap around the wrist of the boy squeezing his neck as he squirms against the brick wall, panting heavy breaths. His bullies snap their heads toward me and for a moment regard me with an uncertain stare, running their eyes up and down my body before a dry chuckle escapes the tall pale boy squeezing, his nose and cheeks red from the cold. The two other boys join him in laughter.
“Let. Him. Go,” I repeat.
Slowly, he releases Timi’s neck, allowing him draw deep sharp breaths as he gasps for air, coughing, his hands holding his throat.
“Timi, come here.” I wave him over. He scurries to obey, bending over to reach for his backpack on the ground, only to get pulled back by his hoodie and slammed into the wall. My frown tightens as I watch the tall one, who seems to be their leader smack him across the head a few times before shoving him to the ground. One of them kicks Timi in the stomach and I grit my teeth.
“Another fucking mind rapist. This school is now infected with them,” says the tall one, stepping forward. “Fucking thieves.” He spits, his smirk pompous and childish. “What? Are you his boyfriend?” He points between Timi and me. “Tell me, how does it work since both of you are dependants? Who gives, and who takes?” His broad shoulders shake with a little laughter as he zips his winter jacket up. “Don’t tell me you let that small thing give you energy,” he says, pointing at me but looking at Timi. “He’s so small, like a teenage girl, Eh? Are you really that pathetic?”
Saying nothing, Timi shivers against the ground, his winter coat has been stripped off him and tossed to the ground, far enough to prevent Timi from reaching it. Digging my hands into my pocket, I ask, “Why are you curious? Do you want me to stick it in you instead? You seem like the kind that’d be very desperate. Are you in heat? You look like an omega.”
The smile on his lips falters, his eyes widening into a glare as his jaw twitches with anger. Werewolves are incredibly sensitive about their mating circle.
Over a thousand years ago when my ancestors ruled Hazalu, werewolves were considered inferiors, easy prey, especially omegas. They release a special pheromone, a sweet intoxicating scent during mating circles that sort of acts like a siren call for mating.
While alpha’s become exceptionally strong and even violent during this period, omega’s—specifically male omega’s become weak and easy to subdue. This pheromone made it easy for my ancestors to track down omegas and mate with them before an alpha could, taking all their energy and leaving them low for months if not years, particularly male omega’s who became quite desperate for breeding.
There aren't as many male omega’s anymore because of this, pregnant men are more likely to birth male omega’s, and for werewolves, there is a shame to it I have never quite understood. Werewolves hate being easy prey and when the revolution began, their leaders devised a means to genetically alter werewolf embryos to produce more female omegas than males, drastically reducing the population of weaker omegas, and at the same time, drastically increasing the negative stigma around being a male omega. This I can relate to. If he’s going to go low and use my dependency against me, I guess the lower is where I belong.
“Come here, you fucking coward!” He charges at me, right fist ready to throw a punch. I move slightly out of the way and he stumbles, scrubbing his chin with the ground as he crashes into it.
My laugh is mocking. “ Look!” I point, showing his friends. “Your leader is an omega? Whoa! Very progressive of you!”
“I’m not a fucking omega!” the struggling boy on the floor chastises.
“You look like one, body shape and all,” I say, making him grunt when he turns to face me. “Should we try? You have a pretty face, you will make pretty babies for me.”
With a deep growl, his claws spurt out of his fingernails and he jolts from the floor, attempting to take a swipe at me. Swaying backward under his punch, I slam a fist into his lower abdomen and uppercut it to his chin, sending him flying back to the ground. The second half of my assault was not intentional. For a kid like him, I’ll admit it was a bit too brutal, my fist kind of decided on it and I went along. It will damage something very important on his face, but he is a werewolf, it should heal in no time.
Turning around, I face the other two idiots standing over Timi. “Why don’t you both come find out what type of girl I am,” I say, urging them forward with a wave. “Come come come, she doesn’t bite. Well… unless you ask her to.” I grin.
They charge forward with loud shouts as if this is a battle scene from Game of Crowns. I try to go as easy on them as possible, keeping my punches tight but less destructive. I slam a fist into one’s jaw and with a high kick send the other flying next to their leader who seems to still be struggling to recover.
“Still want to see what's up my skirt?” I ask, stepping forward. They crawl backward away from me. “No? Get up and run.”
They pick themselves up, hands around each other as they limp-run away.
I turn to Timi who has picked himself up from the floor and is swiping off the dirt from his shirt. I pick his backpack, hang it over my shoulder, then retrieve his winter coat before walking up to him and giving him a helping hand with his clothes. We avoid words as we rid him of the sand and grass. We’ve had too many of these encounters, and I have come to learn talking afterward makes Timi uncomfortable. I pass him a smile as I fix his well-combed afro, smoothing it over with my palm before wiping the dust off his adorable puffy brown cheeks.
It takes him a few seconds to smile back at me and then we both giggle.
“Where is your winter coat,” he asks as I help him slip on his.
“Forgot to grab it, no worries.” I zip him up and take his hand, leading him back to the courtyard.
Timi is the softest soul one could ever meet, but sometimes I still hate that he isn’t the type to fight back. After I dropped out of university, I tried countless get him into boxing, wrestling, and even Judo, that way he could protect himself, but he just gave up each time.
Timi is simple, soft, warm, domestic, all the things I am not. He has the calmest brown eyes and prettiest straight lashes. His love for knitting and pottery triumphs over anything else in his life. After a while, I stopped trying to morph him into who I thought he should be and started accepting him for who he was, and that's how I found a best friend.
“It won't hurt to wear a decent top every now and then,” he says, eyeing my crop top.
“Then how am I supposed to flaunt these rock solid abs, this tiny waist,” I boast, gesturing to my waist. “I wore a corset for six months for this, you know?”
“No one finds tiny waists attractive, Luke, especially not supremes. You’ll never find a mate if you keep reminding them what you are.”
“Our entire life’s purpose isn’t to find a mate. There are other things to look out for in life.” Lightly, I brush my shoulder against his, giving him a gentle shove.
“Like what?” he says, staring at the floor. I flick his forehead with two fingers and he groans, rubbing the spot. “What was that for?”
“If finding the perfect mate is your life purpose, then why are you in school? Eh? Drop out and stop wasting your parents' money, go and train to become a good cook, learn how to care for babies instead.”
He pouts, biting his lips and the guilt pricks me. “I don’t like when you talk to me like.”
“Neither do I! But if I have to listen to you whine about finding a mate one more time I am going to go crazy.” I huff a breath. “Nan de ti te.” Let's go.
“Glad to see you’re still standing,” the girl who pointed me in the right direction earlier approaches and my neck stretches upward to catch a glimpse of her face. I did not notice how tall she was, she was seated, but damn, she’s at least six feet. I blink.
“You two know each other?”
“Luke, Mordecai. Mordecai, Luke,” Timi introduces.
“You’re making human friends, now? Impressive,” I say, nodding. Timi talks about wanting a mate all the time but he is also incredibly shy and can barely make any friends, let alone a human friend. They are known to be intimidating.
“We are not friends,” Mordecai and Luke chant at the same time.
“I simply alert him when they’re coming.” She shrugs, a stiff smile on her face as her fingers run through her straight raven-black hair. It’s so black, I am starting to think charcoal might be a lighter shade.
“Why?”
“He is a great cook, we made a deal. Lunch and I keep an eye out for him.”
“He is also an incubus.”
She scoffs, “Please, the only thing Timi is capable of stealing is a glance at me when I am not looking. Anyway, tomorrow's lunch is snail soup with mushrooms. I also want milk pie.” Timi nods at her request, his eyes low as she turns to leave.
“If you’re going to make him cook for you, you might as well secure him.” My words stop her from leaving, and as she turns, her dark almond eyes squint at me. “They were already slapping him when I got there. Not much of a bargain is it? If you want your mushroom soup, then next time protect for him, or else he won’t be bringing you any soups, and there sure as hell will not be any milk pie. Do your job, or leave him to me.”
Her gaze narrows further for a few more seconds and Timi pinches me, a warning for me to stop. I move away from him, closer to her. “What will it be, eh?”
Mordecai huffs a breath and her shoulders relax, her almond eyes growing large again. “Fine. Whatever.” She digs her hand into her leather handbag and digs out jangling keys, tossing them at Timi who fidgets to catch them. “Move your things to my locker so I can keep a closer eye on you.”
She walks away before a stuttering Timi can cough up a reply, and though I can’t see it on his dark skin, I know he is blushing. Blood slowly drips down his nose and I reach into his back pocket, where he normally keeps his handkerchief, and dig it out.
“Your nose,” I say, offering it to him.
He swipes his finger under it, winces at the blood on his finger then collects the handkerchief. “What have you done?” he asks quietly.
“She was taking advantage of you.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” his voice slightly elevates.
“So why did you—”
“She’s in the military! She’s a sergeant.”
“And? Doesn’t still give her the right, more reason why she shouldn’t stand by and let you get beat up. How did you two meet anyway,” I ask, moving over to the bleachers. The cold is starting to get to me and I shiver, crossing my arms.
“Well…” Timi’s voice drags behind me as we walk. “Remember that one week I was harassed a lot for being the only boy on the school’s culinary team?”
“Mhmm.”
“It was her.”
I spin around. “What!”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“You're trusting your bully with your safety? Whoa, Timi… this is… I can’t—”
“Just trust me on this. No one harasses me anymore, not since I offered to cook for her. Those boys are new students.”
“The deal is off, I don’t care what she offered!” I bark as he sits.
“Enough, stop it.” He taps the space next to him, encouraging me to sit. “Come sit, the school canceled lectures for today because of the fog, do we go to the noddle shop or back to your workplace?”
“Timi—”
“Ah…” He swipes his backpack off my shoulder as I sit. Quickly rummages through and pulls out his phone.
“You trust people easily, that has always been your problem,” I caution as he types. “It’s not that I don’t think you can handle this, but you believe anything.” My phone chimes and I dig it out of my pocket, still talking when I swipe it open, studying the screen. I stop talking when I notice it’s a mail from Timi. “Why are you sending me—” A gasp cuts through my question. “Timi!”
He breathes a soft laugh and says, “I called you this morning and you weren't picking up, so I bought it just in case you miss it, you sleep like a log. You don’t have to—” I shut him up with a hug, squeezing him as we sway from side to side. “Heii…” he grumbles. “I can’t breathe!” he cries.
For a man so eager to find a mate, Timi is too averse to public displays of affection, neither is he keen on physical touch but I don't care at this moment, my heart thumps loudly in my ear as it swells, threatening to rip out of my chest.
“You didn’t have to buy the tickets for me,” I mumble.
“And then you’d be mopey all week about not seeing Pete? No thanks.”
“I will pay you back.”
“No.”
I lean away from our hug. “I already saved the money.”
“I know.” He nods, sliding on his backpack.
My phone rings before I can insist, the name on the screen stealing the smile on my lips. “Shit,” I sigh, then swipe on the answer button.
“Luke!” the thunderous voice of Brother Laz, the store manager and my boss roars through the speaker, forcing me to pull my phone away from my ears.
For the next ten minutes, he goes off on me for leaving the store unattended and I put the phone on loudspeaker so Timi and I can laugh about it. Brother Laz gets mad about everything and he has the funniest way of expressing it, using fancy big words to flaunt his degree in the English language—which he doesn’t even use but never seizes a chance to mention. He’s still hounding me when I start walking Timi to the train station not far from his university. The winter fog is so thick now, we can hardly see the path and Timi worries over this since I have to return to the store instead of heading home with him.
“I should come to the store with you.”
“You hate it there,” I say.
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
He twists his lips to the side, looking back the way we came. It is all gray with winter dust now. “I just don’t like the way they treat you there.”
Patting the side of his shoulder, I pass him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. Thanks for the ticket, I’ll send the money to you.”
He shakes his head. “No. I want you to have it and don’t argue, you do a lot for me.” The train bells ring and the few passengers waiting on the station step forward. “Coming to my house for dinner?”
“I have the night shift at the delivery company today.”
“Ah, cool. Pick me up in the morning.” He turns to leave and I pull him back into my arms and squeeze. “Heiii… Luke.”
“Thank you.”
With an exhale I feel his body relax into mine, his arms wrap around my body, returning my hug. The final call for the train rings and we break apart. Timi hurries into the train. I wait till he is seated before waving him a final goodbye.
Comments (0)
See all