jesevans

“Perfection.” König finds himself clutching onto the phone so tightly in his hands that he feels as if the damned thing could crack.

His gloved fingers curl around the edges as he stares intently at the picture you had sent him, observing every detail through the holes of his balaclava that sits beneath his handmade mask. There’s a distance that leads to the ache in his chest, the desire to return to you is a sensation that he cannot simply shrug off so simply. If anything, it only spurs his wishes that this mission could be done so he can be in the presence of the omega he’s claimed as his.

Instead of giving into the very instincts that make König which to beat at his chest like some primeval caveman chasing after his woman, he stops the tight hold. He loosens his hand and returns the phone to the inner pocket of his tactical vest, shielding it as if it were the sonogram itself, and then he leaves.

He departs from the officer’s barracks he is given and steps outside to join the men he will command. There is a weight upon his chest and shoulders from the gear he carries, but he knows it all just part of the job. He is a colonel, he is a soldier and an alpha who allows his drive to succeed to long overtake any state of discomfort.

König settles into the role of commanding officer the moment he steps outside the officer’s barracks. He centres himself into the mindset he needs for the mission, for the task they are heading out on today. With its completion and success, they will be given a day off to recover while another plan is made.

One task will bleed into another, and König knows that it is imperative to get it done. This mission is not simple in itself, and that there is one task, a break and then another. Moving parts and pieces that will become part of the whole—and only after everything is set into place, can he return.

König knows that the end of the task, on this day, will give him time off tomorrow. And in the time he is given, normally he would retreat to his bed and allow the younger and less conscientious soldiers use their leisure time to blow off steam. König would normally retreat to a quietude, but his mind is constantly transfixed upon you.

Despite his normal routine, he will break it the following morning. König will do nothing but the task that he has set on the forefront of his mind, and that will take him into the nearest town.

König, though he hates the idea of spending his time out of the privacy he is used to on hiss days off, will go shopping. For you. For your future baby.

************************************** 

“Don’t eat too many sweets. You can only have one cup of coffee a day. Make sure you eat your protein and vegetables. Are you getting enough iron?” The questions that are prattled off are barely listened to, he knows it as well as he knows the beat of his heart.

He is pressing you for information from a great distance, while his towering and imposing frame is huddled inside a shop. A shoppe that contains local delicacies and sweets, among other trinkets that König normally wouldn’t spare a glance at.

But for you, he does. For you, he eyes the beading of a handcrafted bracelet or necklace, and he wonders if you would like it. König gazes upon the traditional items that line shelves of this place, both meant for locals and for tourists alike. König is careful to study the items before he debates picking them off the shelf and turning them over in his hands.

“Did you get the picture I sent you?” You ignore his questions and the rapid firing of statements that relate to his worry over you, and instead you ask one of him in return.

While König holds his phone in one hand and presses it to his ear, he uses another hand to pick up a small stuffed animal. Though it is tiny in his meaty hands, it is incredibly well-made and not mass-produced. It is adorable, reflective of a gift someone might bring for a newborn, and König decided that he must get it.

“The baby is well.” A statement, an acknowledgement of what you had said yet spoken in a way that is so directly König. “And healthy.”

“It looks like an alien.”

“Schatz.” His tone hardens and he grips his phone tighter, scolding you with a firm voice. “Do not say that about the baby.”

He takes offence to the statement, a grumble building in his chest when he hears you laugh through the phone. The idea that you would compare your baby, the gift you will share together, to an alien is damning. König takes offence on behalf of the little babe, the innocent and beautifully growing child that he already so protective over.

“What? It kind of does. I mean, it’s still growing, it’ll come into its features.” Your laugh is light and airy, and it makes König’s own heart clench in response, as he is hit with another desire to be near you.

“You didn’t answer my questions.” König isn’t so flippant about the avoidance of his questions; however, he knows that you are a stubborn omega.

His omega, his stubborn and hard-headed omega that gives him trouble. Beautiful and troublesome, American and testy.

“Bossy alpha.” You scoff and through the phone he can hear you rummaging around as the muffled thud of a pan hits the stove. “Mother alpha.”

“Don’t,” König growls a warning, as if he could do anything to you, “call me mother alpha. Du bist eine göre.”

“I don’t know what that means, but no, I’m not.” You deny being a brat, and he listens to you, everything he can detect from the speaker, with a pleasant hum in his chest.

Stubborn yet he has no doubt that you are doing everything possible to take care of yourself and your baby. Even if you contrast against the idea of what he thinks is best, König knows that you are capable. Regardless of him being an alpha who will do whatever he thinks he needs to, you are not helpless.

Despite the desperate need to take control of everything he can and protect you from every and all possible threats—even as small as spiders—König knows deep in his soul that you are capable. You are smart, you are strong and have the ability to function as an omega on your own.

Even if you are not on your own anymore.

“What are you doing?” Now it’s you who questions König, with that lilt in your voice that makes him think you will be teasing him. “Are you…shopping?”

At first, he doesn’t know exactly how you can come to the conclusion that he isn’t on the temporary base. However, in the next moment, the registers dings and clinks loudly as the transaction goes through. And the shopkeeper comes up to him, asking if he would like a basket for the things he’s been keeping in his hands.

A small cache, if nothing else, of things he has picked up. Pretty objects and sweets, gifts for your baby that he will give them long before they’re born. König, while being distracted by your voice, had armed himself with more than he intended to pick up.

All gifts for you and his child.

“I’m grabbing a few things while I have time.” His response to you is short, if not a little clipped, and he lets the shoppe attendant take the items in his arms.

“What kind of things does a hard-ass colonel like you need?” There you are again, teasing him through the phone, and König snorts, chuffs really, under his breath. “Can’t see you shopping for bath oils.”

Bath oils, that strikes an image in is head and König’s heavy footsteps take him out of the section he’s in, for another. He reaches the handmade soaps and oils, the essential items for a clean body, and analyzes them well. There is great depth to his actions, and he only grabs what he thinks you will like, and things that are healthy for the baby.

“None of your business, liebe.” König grunts, gruffly brushing off your questions. You will just have to see whaat he returns from the mission with a small cache of gifts for you and your babe.

“I don’t have much time to speak. I’ll call you later.” There is a slight dismissal of the topic, and he swiftly delivers the news that the conversation is coming to an end. “Take care of yourself, and don’t do anything foolish.”

“I will.” You respond to his demand, and he can hear the laughter in your voice. “Mother alpha.”

******************************************

Your feet are kicked up on the couch and sticking out of the blanket that covers you. Beneath the material, your hand rests on the highest point of your baby belly, while the other rests under your cheek. Your attention is fixated upon the tv that is playing an old classic movie. The grainy and less perfected image, than movies today, gives you comfort.

You feel the sigh dissipating on your lips as you squirm ever so slightly and get into a more comfortable position. Of course, you are both cold and hot, given that your feet stick out yet the rest of you is covered. As you lay on the couch and listen to the sound of the movie playing out in time with the screen, you pause.

You hesitate when you hear something, or someone, on the porch knocking something over. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you pause the movie, bringing both the sound and the action to a stop. You push yourself into a sitting position and look over the back of the couch, the porch light giving you little insight.

You know that König would be greatly displeased with you and your decision to go inspect the noise. If he were here, he would tell you that any attempt to see what was out there was foolish. He would scold you for not staying where you were, and ignoring the sound.

“König isn’t here.” You stop by the kitchen and open a drawer to grab a solid wood rolling pin, not the most formidable of weapons, but it was heavy enough for you.

With your weapon in hand, you depart the living room and move toward the front door. You stop short and shy of the door itself and look out the window, trying to see what out there. While you can only see some things on the porch knocked over, and not what knocked it over, you know something is out there.

“DO NOT OPEN THAT DOOR, SCHATZCHEN! THERE COULD BE A DANGEROUS ANIMAL OUTSIDE.” You can hear König’s voice in your mind, echoing with a demand that makes you roll your eyes.

Ignoring his voice in your mind, you move forward once more. You unlock the door and prop it open while sticking your rolling pin out through the door as a threat. When you hear no voice, you lean forward and look outside, finding no human there.

Instead, there is a small furry body that’s rifling through a knocked over bin that sits on the porch. Its button ears catch your attention, floppy and soft looking, as well as its almost pear-like shaped head. It’s wriggling its butt as it rifles through the clear bin, perhaps searching for food that’s not there, and you next notice the overall colour.

There are white markings on the face, chest, feet, and tip of the tail, while the long tail is held high as it moves. The animal is small and clearly young, a puppy by any standards, and that alone makes you soften instantly.

“Hello.” The dog doesn’t pay attention to you, not until you reach out and touch its hindquarters, only then does it yelp and move. You clearly caught it off guard as it knocked its head against the top of the clear bin and backtracks with every scrape of its nails on the deck.

“Are you hungry, little guy?” It’s afraid, and the yelping turns to whining as it pins itself against the railings of the porch. You hum under your breath and reach for the puppy who bares its teeth yet it is as quick to become silent when you nuzzle it against your chest.

“That is a wild animal, liebe. It could have diseases, rabies, or fleas. Leave it alone.” König’s voice presents itself as some ingratiated voice that won’t leave your mind.

“You’re cold, aren’t you? And hungry…” you make no second guesses about bringing the puppy into the home, nor do you pay any mind to how displeased or cross König will be. “You poor baby.”

It’s easy enough to bring the puppy into your home and to give him water in a bowl, but you have no puppy food. Rather than try to scramble for something that will be as close of a match as possible, you open your fridge and pull out some sliced chicken.

You cut it into small pieces and sit on the floor of your kitchen while the puppy drinks water like it’s dying of thirst. Once it seems to be pleased with the water, you offer it the chicken, which acts like a peace offering. The puppy eats the chicken, and it’s sturdy, yet long tail flops against the floor as a response to your care.

You make up your mind at the moment, while it’s eating and complacent with its position here, that you’re going to keep the little thing.

It seems like König will have a surprise waiting for him when he comes back.