Overnight••√•• a foreign omega”

chapitre :7

• ஜ • ❈ • ஜ •

Smith's happiness had taken on the consistency of a solid, gentle reality. The days flowed by, woven with laughter shared with Julien, knowing glances with Day, and the quiet pride emanating from his parents. The wedding was approaching, no longer an anxiety-inducing deadline, but a natural point of convergence for all this joy. Yet, a small, dissonant note had begun to vibrate within him, so faint he attributed it to his old, anxious nature.

It was in the details. In the way Julien would sometimes, for no apparent reason, curl up against Nam with an almost feline need, nuzzling his neck as if drawing essential comfort from it. In the way Day would sometimes look at him with an intensity so deep, so physical, that it stole Smith's breath, sending a strange warmth coursing through his belly. It was in the constant, joyful yet insistent allusions Julien made to their future child.

"You'll see, when you have your little one, you won't want to let them go!" he'd exclaimed one morning, playing with Nam's curly hair.

Smith had laughed, embarrassed.

"Julien, stop. You talk as if it's as simple as ordering a pizza."

The silence that followed was brief, but heavy. Julien and Nam exchanged a look.

"Smith," Nam said softly. "We've talked about this, remember? About your… condition."

A shiver ran down Smith's spine. "Condition." The word was so medical, so definitive.

"My condition?" he repeated, feigning incomprehension, a knot forming in his stomach.

Julien placed his hand over Smith's. His gaze was no longer teasing, but filled with tender concern.

"Smith… your cycle. It's supposed to start soon after the wedding, according to the doctor. That's why we keep talking about babies. Because it's real. For us."

Smith stared at them one after the other, his face growing paler. The puzzle pieces began to assemble in his mind, forming a picture so incongruous, so insane, he felt like laughing. A cycle? Like a woman? It was absurd.

"I… I don't understand," he murmured, his voice strangled. "What are you talking about?"

Julien took charge, with infinite gentleness.

"Come on. Let's go up to your room. I think it's time we had a real talk."

Sitting cross-legged facing each other on the bed, like two children about to share a secret, Julien began.

"Smith, in our world… people aren't quite what you seem to believe. We aren't just men and women. There's a… a different cartography. A different biology."

Smith listened, his heart pounding. Julien's words reminded him of the sci-fi novels he used to read in secret in his old life, stories of genders and dynamics he believed were purely fictional.

"There are three designations," Julien continued. "The Betas, who are the majority. They're… normal, stable. Like your parents. Like most people."

He took a breath.

"And then there are the Alphas. And the Omegas."

The word "Omega" fell into the silence of the room like a stone into a well. Smith stared at him, dumbfounded.

"The Alphas… that's Day. That's Nam," Julien explained. "They're often protectors, pillars. They have a strength, a presence… a scent that can be very soothing for us."

"For us?" Smith repeated, a terrible foreboding washing over him.

Julien gave him a small, sad smile.

"Yes. For us. The Omegas. Smith… you and I, we are Omegas."

Smith's world tilted. Not with a crash, but with a silent, dizzying shift. It was as if he'd suddenly been told that gravity was optional, that the sky was green and the grass blue. Everything he took for granted about human biology was shattering.

"Is this… is this a joke?" he stammered, recoiling imperceptibly. "Those things don't exist. That's science fiction. Fantasy for…"

"For people like us?" Julien finished gently. "Yes, Smith. They do exist. It's the reason your body can carry a child. It's the reason you must sometimes feel that something in you is… different. A keener sensitivity. A visceral need for closeness, for touch. A heat that rises, that calls."

Julien's words struck with terrifying precision. They described sensations he had indeed felt, which he had attributed to stress, to love, to anything but this.

"No," he breathed, shaking his head, his eyes misty with tears of confusion and fear. "No, it's impossible. I'm a man."

"And you are!" Julien exclaimed fervently, grabbing his hands. "Being an Omega doesn't make you less of a man, Smith! It's part of who you are. It's a facet of your biology, like the color of your eyes. In this world, no one finds it strange. It's normal. It's natural."

The bedroom door opened softly. Nam stood on the threshold, his large frame filling the doorway. He looked grave.

"Julien is right, Smith," he said, approaching and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I know this must be a shock. To you, it sounds like madness. But look at us. Look at Julien. Does he seem abnormal to you? Weak?"

Smith looked at Julien. His friend, so lively, so strong, so joyful. He thought of his own strength, the determination that had kept him alive in his old world. Nothing about Julien matched the stereotypical, often degrading image of Omegas he'd read about in those novels.

"But… the stories…," he murmured, ashamed. "They talk about submission. Weakness."

Nam let out an annoyed grunt.

"The stories are bullshit. Fantasies. In real life, being an Omega is about having an incredible capacity to love, to nurture, to create life. It's a strength of unfathomable depth. Julien is the strongest person I know. And you… whatever you endured in your life, Smith, whatever that life was, it requires a strength few possess. See this not as a limitation, but as a new sense awakening. A deeper connection to your own body, your emotions, to those you love."

Nam's words, calm and reasoned, began to do their work. They humanized this concept that seemed monstrous to him. It wasn't a curse, nor an erotic fantasy. It was a biological reality, with its own challenges and its own joys.

"And Day?" Smith asked, his voice small. "Does he know?"

"Of course he knows," Julien replied, smiling. "He loves you for who you are, Smith. All of you. Your heart, your mind, and the very nature of your body. It's part of what draws him to you. An Alpha's instinct for his Omega isn't about domination, it's… a feeling of home. Of completion. You are his anchor."

"His anchor." The words resonated so deeply within Smith that it stole his breath. That was exactly what he had felt with Day. A sense of peace, of absolute safety, as if he had finally found port after a long and perilous journey.

He closed his eyes, letting the waves of information wash over him. The revelation was enormous, dizzying. But amidst the chaos of his mind, one fact emerged, clear and undeniable: in this world, he was loved. Not in spite of what he was, but for what he was, in his entirety. His body, capable of bearing life, was not a shameful anomaly, but a celebrated gift.

When he opened his eyes again, the tears streaming down his cheeks were no longer tears of fear, but of acceptance.

"A child," he whispered. "I really could…?"

"Yes," Julien breathed, his eyes shining. "You could. If you want to. And you will be an incredible father."

Smith looked at his hands, as if seeing for the first time the potential they held. This was no longer the body that had betrayed him by loving men, the body he had wanted to punish and renounce. This was a body capable of loving, of experiencing pleasure, and of creating. An Omega's body. His body.

The revelation didn't erase his doubts or his fears. It added a layer of complexity to his new life. But it also anchored his choice with a new strength. He hadn't just fled to a world of social acceptance. He had found a world where his very biology, in all its singularity, was understood and loved.

He looked up at Nam and Julien, a trembling but authentic smile on his lips.

"Okay," he said simply. "Explain everything to me. The cycles, the… everything. I want to understand."

And as the sun set, they talked. Not about power dynamics or literary fantasies, but about the tangible, human reality of being a family, in a world where love had many faces, and where life could be born from the union of two hearts, no matter the body that housed it. Smith listened, learned, and gradually, the cartography of his new body ceased to frighten him and began to speak to him of his future.