Smiling to myself, I curl up. The walls rise just high enough around me that it’s like lying in a little boat, safe and enclosed. But… from inside I notice a few imperfections in the design. Oh now! My work is not done!
???
I don’t sleep all night, I’m running on pure adrenaline, and it keeps fueling me. It must be early morning by the time I finally finish, satisfied at last.
My nest is perfect, tall, solid, majestic.
Wanting to watch from outside, I step out of the nest, noticing with some pride that it doesn’t even get damaged, it handles me rolling over its edge just fine, even if I’m not doing it very gracefully.
Then I hear a noise and want to investigate, so I move to the window. From where I stand, I can only see half the pool, the rest blocked by the balcony floor.
But my heart instantly starts racing.
Someone is swimming, and I know immediately who it is. Snow.
We haven’t seen each other for more than a few hours, but already it feels like days.
I fix him with a persistent, intense gaze… and instantly feel silly. Watching an almost naked alpha swim like this feels kind of puppyish.
What is he doing here so early anyway?
I quickly fire up the laptop to check the time. 5:30.
Wow, I really get lost in nesting, completely losing track of time. And I don’t even feel tired.
At this hour, the pool water has to be freezing, even with the sun just peeking over the horizon. Yet it doesn’t seem to bother him. I rarely see anyone swim like Snow, he moves through the water with the precision of a machine, a perfect freestyle from one end to the other, nonstop.
I gently and quietly crack open the balcony door, just enough to step out and see him better. He probably can’t see me, submerged as he is, which gives me a bit of courage.
There is something hypnotic in the way he moves: intense, fast, and powerful. Every stroke, every motion radiates that virile alpha energy, strong and confident, cutting through the water in a perfect line.
I sit down in the rattan chair and just watch him, his body, his… vitality.
It’s hard to see much of him, the sun reflecting off the water, leaving mainly his head popping up and his shoulders. They catch my attention, there’s something strange about them. I have no idea if he’s wearing some kind of professional swimwear, like a competitive swimmer. I decide to wait until he comes out of the water.
I have to wait a while, but I don’t mind. The sun rises, warming the air. Everything smells of grass, flowers, and citrus.
Snow swims for nearly an hour. Incredible. He’s had only four hours of sleep, and yet he maintains that pace the whole time. I wonder if he does this daily, part of his routine.
Finally, the moment comes.
Snow breaks the surface and climbs out using the side ladder. He stands with his back to me, and when he steps onto the pool tiles, the light hits his entire body, revealing every detail.
I freeze, my mouth falling open.
What I thought was a swimsuit turns out not to be a swimsuit at all.
Snow’s skin is covered in something that looks like tattoos, but not ordinary tattoos.
They are intricate, almost like frost patterns on a window, fractal and floral, in extraordinary colors. Most are white, contrasting against his sun-kissed skin. Some are silver, some gold. Thin lines weave across his legs, torso, arms, and back, stopping only around his wrists.
And his body… it is perfect.
Athletic but not overbuilt, with long planes of firm muscle, the tattoos tracing every curve. I’ve never seen tattoos in such colors, how does a tattoo artist get pure chalky white, gold, and silver pigments to show up like that?
He lifts his hands and runs his fingers through his wet hair, long snowy strands falling halfway down his shoulder blades.
My Fate, he’s perfect. My eyes drift down to his groin, catching the pronounced bulge in his black trunks, the tight kind.
