chapter 16

Rhonin followed the nervous omega inside, feeling Kane's shit-eating grin burning into the back of his skull. He knew he'd never hear the end of it, but at least Kane wasn't running his mouth—yet.

The apartment was nice. Not luxury but clean, cozy and not falling apart, which was a huge improvement from the last places they checked.

The omega from before practically disappeared down the hall, leaving Rhonin standing awkwardly in the small living room.

Then—

"Ah, you must be Rhonin!"

A warm, motherly voice pulled his attention toward the kitchen, where a beta woman—late fifties, kind face, gray-streaked brown hair tied up in a messy bun—stepped out, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"Uh, yeah," Rhonin said, straightening. "That's me."

"Welcome, welcome!" She said, smiling. "I'm Mrs. Everly, the landlady of this complex. You're looking to rent the second room, yes?"

"If it's still available," Rhonin replied, trying not to sound too desperate for a real bed.

"It is!" She confirmed cheerfully. "Come, sit. Let's talk, dear."

Rhonin hesitated, glancing toward Kane, who immediately took a seat on the couch like he fucking lived there.

Rhonin sighed and sat too. "Alright, lay it on me. Rules, rent, all that."

Mrs. Everly chuckled. "Straight to business, I like that." She settled into an armchair. "Rent is five hundred a month. Includes utilities but no loud parties, no wrecking the place and absolutely no fighting with your housemate."

"Not a problem," Rhonin said easily. "What's the deal with the omega?"

"Elian?" Mrs. Everly smiled fondly. "He's a sweetheart, poor thing. Just moved in a few weeks ago—came here looking for a fresh start. He's quiet, keeps to himself but he's lovely."

Rhonin raised an eyebrow. "Seemed more like he was scared for his life when he saw me."

Mrs. Everly gave him a look. "You do have a rather intense presence, dear."

Kane snorted. "That's putting it lightly."

Rhonin shot him a glare. "Shut the fuck up."

"Language," Mrs. Everly chided, tapping his knee.

Rhonin sighed. "Right. Sorry."

"Good boy," She teased, then leaned back. "Now, I do have one rule regarding Elian. He's a sweet omega but can be a bit shy, so I expect you to be mindful of that. No scaring him, no teasing him if he gets nervous, and above all—"

Her kind eyes sharpened just slightly. "Be gentle with him."

Rhonin blinked. "…I'm not gonna eat him, lady."

"You say that now," Kane muttered under his breath.

Rhonin kicked him.

"Boys, behave," Mrs. Everly said, amused. "Now, do you have any questions?"

Rhonin considered it. He had some—like why Elian seems a bit jumpy or what kind of fresh start he was looking for—but that wasn't his business.

"Nah," He finally said. "Just tell me where to sign."

Mrs. Everly clapped her hands together, pleased. "Wonderful!"

Rhonin officially signed the lease, handed over the deposit and just like that—

He had a home.

He might gonna cry.

_

The moment the front door closed behind Kane and Mrs. Everly, Rhonin let out a long, exhausted breath.

Finally. Peace.

His new room wasn't anything fancy—bare walls, basic furniture and a closet with barely enough space for his already sad amount of clothes. But none of that mattered. Because right in the center of the room was a real, actual fucking bed.

Rhonin didn't bother unpacking. He just dropped his bag on the floor, kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the mattress.

A groan ripped out of him the second his body hit the bed. "Holy fuck."

It was soft. It smelled clean. And most importantly? It wasn't his goddamn car.

His back had been through hell these past few weeks and now? He could feel his spine realigning like it was personally thanking him for this moment.

"This is it," Rhonin mumbled into the pillow, sprawled out like a man who had just been saved from death. "This is where I die. Let no one disturb my rest—"

Knock knock.

Rhonin groaned.

Another soft knock.

Rhonin exhaled sharply, shoving himself up. "One fucking second—" He ran a hand through his hair, shaking off sleep as he dragged himself to the door.

When he opened it, he was greeted by those big, hazel eyes and a nervous but determined expression.

Elian.

The omega shifted slightly, hands clasped together in front of him. "I was about to eat. Have you had dinner yet?"

Rhonin blinked.

That… was not what he expected.

He expected anything else—Elian avoiding him, staying in his room, pretending Rhonin didn't exist. Instead, here he was, clearly stepping out of his comfort zone to check on him.

Rhonin rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling a little guilty for how hard he was about to nap. "Uh. No. Didn't get around to it yet."

Elian nodded. "There's food in the kitchen, if you want to join me."

Rhonin hesitated. Not because he didn't want to go—but because he could already tell that Elian had to push himself just to ask that question.

So, he kept his voice calm. Gentle. "Yeah. That sounds good."

Elian gave him a small nod, then turned, quietly leading the way toward the dining area.

Rhonin followed, taking in the setup.

A small table sat beside the kitchen, neatly arranged with plates, bowls, and—

Food.

Actual. Fucking. Food.

Something warm and homemade, fresh steam curling in the air, the scent of herbs and spices filling the space.

Rhonin stopped in his tracks.

Because something about it? Hit him like a goddamn truck.

He'd been eating like shit for so long—instant noodles, gas station sandwiches, free leftovers from abandoned study tables. And now, standing in front of a real meal, something inside him twisted.

It was stupid.

It was just food.

But fuck, it had been a long time since anyone had set a table and waited for him to sit down.

Elian turned, watching him curiously. "You okay?"

Rhonin swallowed thickly, forcing himself to play it cool. "Yeah. Just… wasn't expecting this."

Elian motioned toward the seat. "You can sit. I made enough for both of us."

Rhonin dragged himself into the chair, staring at his plate like it was about to disappear if he blinked too long. "You didn't have to do all this."

"I know," Elian said simply, taking his own seat. "But I wanted to."

Rhonin had no idea how to respond to that.

So instead, he picked up his fork and took his first bite.

And holy shit.

"What the fuck—"

Elian blinked. "Is it bad?"

"No," Rhonin said immediately, shaking his head. "It's fucking amazing. Like, what the hell, dude? You didn't warn me you could cook like this."

Elian let out a soft, amused hum. "I like cooking."

"Yeah, no shit," Rhonin muttered, already taking another bite. "This is the best meal I've had in months."

Elian didn't say anything to that. Just quietly ate, gaze flickering between his plate and Rhonin every now and then.

And Rhonin?

Rhonin just sat there, eating like a starved man, trying to ignore the weird lump in his throat that had nothing to do with food.