"Here." Min-jun finally moved forward, settling the tray across my lap with careful precision. The porridge was still steaming, thick and creamy and dotted with what looked like shredded chicken. A small bowl of cut fruit sat beside it — strawberries and melon and grapes — along with a cup of tea that smelled like ginger and honey. "Eat slowly. Your stomach might be sensitive."
"Thank you," I said again, and picked up the spoon.
The first bite was heaven.
I hadn't realized how hungry I was until the warm porridge hit my tongue, settling into my stomach with a comfort that was almost overwhelming. A small sound escaped me — something embarrassingly close to a moan — and I heard Tae-min stifle a laugh from his spot near my feet.
"Good?" Min-jun asked, his voice carefully neutral, but I could see the hope in his eyes, the way he leaned slightly forward waiting for my response.
"Really good," I confirmed, and watched his whole face light up, his shoulders relaxing like I'd lifted a weight off them. "You made this?"
"He makes everything," Tae-min said, grinning, his dark hair falling across his forehead as he tilted his head. "Seriously, the man stress-cooks like it's an Olympic sport. We've had enough food to feed a small army for the past week."
"Someone had to make sure she was eating properly," Min-jun muttered, but there was no real heat in it, his cheeks flushing slightly at the teasing as he settled back on his heels. I took another bite, then another, my body crying out for more even as my stomach struggled to keep up. The others watched me eat in silence — not uncomfortable, just attentive. Like they wanted to make sure I was okay but didn't want to overwhelm me.
It was such a stark contrast to everything I'd feared.
They're not what we expected, my omega observed quietly.Not even close.
She was right. I'd spent twelve years building up an image of what alphas were — demanding, controlling, taking what they wanted without asking. These alphas didn't fit that image at all. They sat quietly at the edge of a nest, waiting for permission to come closer. They made rice porridge and cut fruit into bite-sized pieces. They looked at me like I was something precious instead of something to be possessed.
I set down my spoon, my stomach full enough that eating more would be uncomfortable. The tray was still half-full, but Min-jun didn't comment, just reached forward to take it from my lap with a small nod.
"You can have more later," he said quietly, his fingers brushing against mine as he lifted the tray. The touch was brief, barely there, but it sent a spark of warmth through my chest. "Whenever you're ready."
"Thank you." I seemed to be saying that a lot. But it felt important. Felt necessary. A silence fell over the room — not awkward, but weighted. Expectant. They were waiting for something, I realized. Waiting for me to say something, to make some kind of decision.
"I've been thinking," I started slowly, working through the words as I spoke. "About what happens now. About... us."
They all leaned in slightly, attentive, waiting. Tae-min's hands stilled where they'd been fidgeting with the edge of a blanket. Jin-ho stepped further into the room, his notebook clutched against his chest. Hwan's breath caught audibly, his golden eyes wide.
"The bonds aren't complete yet," I continued, glancing at Jae-won for confirmation. "They're triggered, but not finished.And from what I understand, completing them requires... more. Physical closeness. Intimacy. Time."
"That's right." Jae-won nodded slowly, his expression carefully neutral, giving nothing away.
"I want that time." I looked around at all of them, making sure they understood. "I want to get to know you. Really know you, not just through letters and texts. I want to spend time with each of you individually, learn who you are. I want to give myself a chance to trust you before we complete the bonds."
Silence. Long enough that my heart started to race, uncertainty spiking in my chest. Had I asked for too much? Were they going to refuse?
"Yes." Jae-won's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, firm and immediate, his dark eyes holding mine. "Whatever you need. However long you need. Yes."
"Absolutely yes," Hwan added, his sunshine scent brightening, a trembling smile spreading across his face as he pressed a hand to his chest. "We've waited this long. We can wait longer."
"Take all the time you need," Min-jun said quietly, the tray now set aside, his hands resting on his knees. "We're not going anywhere."
"I'd like that," Jin-ho said from his spot closer to the nest now, his voice soft but certain. "Getting to know you properly. Not just through words on a page."
"Same," Tae-min agreed, grinning despite the tears I could see gathering in his eyes, quickly wiping at them with the back of his hand. "Though fair warning, I'm even more annoying in person than I am over text."
A startled laugh escaped me, breaking some of the tension in the room. Tae-min's grin widened, pleased with himself, and I felt something loosen in my chest.
"There's something else," Jae-won said, his tone shifting to something more practical. He glanced at the others before continuing. "We did some research. About soul sickness and incomplete bonds. About what helps."
"Research?" I raised an eyebrow, curious.
"Jin-ho found some medical journals," Hwan explained, gesturing toward the quiet alpha. "And Min-jun talked to a doctor friend of his. We wanted to understand what you were going through. What we could do to help."
The fact that they'd taken the time to research, to try to understand — it made something warm bloom in my chest.
