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Shiloh hates omegas. It's inherently ironic; he's well aware. He shouldn't hate his own people. But Shiloh does. He can't tell you why. The kindest people he knows are all omegas. That sweet lady from the café near his apartment complex, the old man who's always sitting around on his front porch making chit-chat with anyone who passes by, one of the receptionists at his university, the list goes on. Maybe it's because he hates himself for being one. If Shiloh could choose his secondary gender, he'd have opted to be a basic, boring old beta. Let him have his cake and eat it. It's not just omegas that Shiloh hates, however. In fact, Shiloh hates a lot of things. People, social events, seafood, musicals, did he mention people? His friends (the few people that don't immediately piss him off) call him a party-pooper. He's completely fine with that. He doesn't like parties, either. He'd rather be called all sorts of names than hang around in the company of miserable souls. It's not even that Shiloh's a mean person. He just doesn't see the point in meaningless interactions. He's not introverted; not as per his own judgement, anyway. He's got confidence, and he'd be perfectly fine with speaking in front of a large crowd or doing things people would normally deem embarrassing or feel too shy to carry out. He just doesn't like people. There's nothing more to it. He prefers to stay hidden. Fleeting, rarely present. It's better not to draw attention to himself after everything he's been through.Shiloh likes to think he's cool. Not in the way that a high school kid would label themselves as such, but more so that he imagines, if he had dabbled in the acting scene a bit, he'd probably be some mysteriously private A-list celebrity that the media would go crazy for. He's got the looks, after all. And the presence. Instead, he's stuck at twenty-two taking care of a toddler on his own. His toddler. Maybe Shiloh doesn't hate omegas, after all. Maybe he hates alphas — stupid fucking alphas who go around mounting the first omega they see and impregnating them while in rut. And, yes, he knows he could've nipped the issue in the bud and gotten rid of the fetus while he had the chance to. But, abortions weren't cheap; and he sure as hell wasn't going to get back into contact with Lawrence again to ask for money like some dependent idiot; even if it was his fault that Shiloh ended up pregnant in the first place. He was too scared to use any sort of drugs or other at-home remedies (his friend, Julie, had jokingly suggested a coat hanger, and Shiloh was desperate enough to try it if not for the fact that he'd chickened out last minute), so he ended up going through with the pregnancy in the end. His family had taken the news surprisingly well — aside from his father. It had taken a lot of convincing from his mother for the old man to accept that his son, nineteen at the time, was going to have a child out of wedlock, much less a child of some older guy that he casually slept with but no longer speaks to. She'd offered to pay if Shiloh wanted to, in her words, kill it, but by the time that had rolled around, he'd already made the decision to keep her. Money was tight, it still is, and it's difficult balancing his university life with a toddler on his plate, but Shiloh wouldn't trade it for the world. He's grown to love his daughter. Frankly, she's the one thing keeping him going. His world. Three years in, and there's still no one who could replace her in his heart. "Dada, we go now?" A tornado of a girl runs up to Shiloh with pure excitement, her tiny shoes tapping against the small apartment's hardwood floors at every step. Shiloh doesn't know why his little girl adores him so much. Frankly, he's not a good parent. He tries his very best to give her everything that he can, but a single, broke college student as a parent can only get her so many things. He's seen how other parents make time for their kids, take them out to fun places and buy them new toys or clothes or shoes. Most of the clothes Summer's got on are hand-me-downs; clothes his mother found that used to belong to his older sister, Erika, when she was Summer's age. The rest are gifts that his friends would give to Summer on her birthdays in the past or on Christmas. His mother had advised him not to buy baby clothes, no matter how cute they might've looked on the store displays. 'She'll grow out of them in the blink of an eye and you'll feel bad for spending so much. If you want, I can sew some clothes for her and have them delivered to your address.' The offer had Shiloh instantly accepting it with immense gratitude. He doesn't know what he would've done if his mother wasn't okay with the situation he had gotten himself into. "Mhm, pumpkin. We're gonna go now," Shiloh responds, fixing a few strands of his silvery-blond hair in the reflection of his mirror as he speaks. He doesn't look like an omega, which is something Shiloh is overwhelmingly grateful for. It's hard enough dealing with life as is. If he drew unnecessary attention because of his secondary gender, then that'd make things a whole lot complicated. Broad shoulders, slender waist and hips. He's not too tall, but above-average for an omega. 5'6". A beauty mark under his right eye and one under the right side of his bottom lip. Shiloh works out (when he gets the time to), too, so his frame isn't particularly dainty and slim, either. Thanks to those features, he's often mistaken for a beta. He's nowhere near alpha status, that's for sure, but for Shiloh, an omega, passing as a beta is a great feat in itself. He slings a large bomber jacket onto himself — yet another step in making him appear bigger than he actually is — before turning back around and picking Summer up in his arms. The little girl kicks her feet and squeals happily, allowing for herself to be lifted. Shiloh smiles at that, using a free hand to push her bangs out of her eyes and press a kiss onto her forehead. Despite being his daughter, Summer looks nothing like Shiloh. She's got chestnut brown hair and pretty, charcoal black eyes. The embodiment of autumn, and yet Shiloh had named her Summer. Why? Maybe it was to spite the person she ended up taking after (not that he'd be aware of her existence); maybe it was because he gave birth to her in the summer. He doesn't know. Maybe it was because she made him feel a warmth he'd never felt before. "Dada look good today.""Do I?""Mhm!" Her little nose scrunches up as she giggles, proud of herself for making Shiloh break out into a smile. He can't help but feel guilty. It's a constant feeling he gets whenever Summer looks at him as if he's the best person in the world. Shiloh knows he's not, and he wishes Summer could realize that. In her eyes, he's just 'dada' — someone who can and will do no wrong. "Well, I know I don't look as pretty as my little angel." "Dada... we both pretty!"Just this one more year, Shiloh promises himself. This is his final year of university, and he's only got a few more months left. Once he graduates and gets his degree, he'll focus on spending more time with Summer. He'll get a job; a job that'll earn him more than the current one he has working as a cashier at a smoothie-bar nearby. He'll get a job that needs his degree; one that'll hopefully take him seriously. He'll have to send Summer to preschool, too. That's another dent to his wallet; but an absolutely necessary one. ✩°Shiloh doesn't trust himself to leave Summer at home while he attends his classes. She's a very, very energetic kid, and there's no telling when she might get herself into trouble when he's not there to supervise her. But, he doesn't have the money for a babysitter, either. Sometimes, when Julie's free or doesn't have a class, she'll pitch in and offer to keep watch on Summer for a few hours. But, aside from that, Shiloh's other options are exhausted. So, when that happens, he brings Summer along with him. It was a difficult task when she was still an infant and kept waking up crying, but now that she's three years old, she's a bit more manageable. She doesn't have to be constantly monitored and fed formula, and she doesn't make a fuss when handed over to other people. If she does, Shiloh usually calms her down with a cookie or a carton of juice. Besides, it's only the important classes that Shiloh attends. He tries to ask for notes for the ones he misses. His grades aren't doing bad, so he deems his strategy pretty good.The 'other people' in question is Alexis, a sweet, kind lady who's also one of the receptionists here at the university. Initially, he'd been hesitant at handing his precious daughter over to some busy staff member for the duration of his classes. However, she'd later assured him that she'd seen a case like his own a few years ago while working here — two students who got into their mating cycles during a frat party and ended up having a kid together. She'd felt bad for Shiloh and offered a hand. He was going to deny it, Shiloh hates being pitied more than he hates asking for help, but eventually accepted. It's made life slightly easier for him. "Once again, sorry for the trouble," Shiloh sheepishly mumbles, his eyes trained on Summer, who's already beginning to do her thing. She's definitely outgoing, and her little 'good morning!'s to everyone walking past the reception booth are proof of that. A few smile and reply back, but most, like expected of university students at this time in the morning, resemble zombies who can't wait to get their asses out of here after they're done with their classes for the day."Oh, don't you apologize. I'm always happy to help, especially when it comes to Summer," the woman reassures Shiloh with a dismissive wave of her hand. Shiloh supposes that's right. Alexis has known Summer since she was a little baby, after all. She organizes a few papers on her desk in front of her while checking the time on her wristwatch. "Though, I'll have to be out of here by nine-thirty. I've got a dentist's appointment. Jesse will be taking over for me once I'm out.""I completely understand. I'll try to manage." Shiloh's going to have to leave half an hour early from his eight a.m. class, but that's fine. Anything for Summer. Speaking of, she's already shoveling around in Shiloh's university tote for her coloring book and pencils. He likes keeping her occupied while he's away from her, and it's good for Shiloh that the Barbie coloring book he'd bought for Summer always gets her transfixed on it for a good hour or two once the pages have been opened. Shiloh crouches down in front of her, keeping a hand on her shoulder. It's never easy parting from her, even when he knows she's in good hands and he'll only be gone for two hours at the most. "Pumpkin, I'm going to be gone for a while, okay?"Summer blinks at Shiloh, nodding her head. She knows how this is going to unfold. Whenever she's brought over to this fancy building by her dada, she knows she's left with the kind lady with glasses for a looong time until he returns. She doesn't dislike it, though. This is fun in its own charming way."Okay, dada." "I want you to behave around Alexis and not cause a fuss, too. Think you can do that for me, my little angel?" "Uh-huh! I can!"Shiloh smiles, ruffling Summer's hair as he stands up. He's glad she's a well-behaved kid who doesn't throw temper tantrums on a whim. That's all thanks to his good parenting, but Shiloh will never acknowledge that. He's under the assumption that he's probably the worst parent ever, leaving his daughter in the hands of someone else because he can't look after her himself. "Okay. I'll see you in a while."Summer hugs Shiloh's legs one last time before he gently pries her off of him. He'd love to stay behind and play with her, but this is a very important lecture that he's got to get to. "Bye-bye, dada!" ✩°"Alexis." A voice breaks the receptionist away from her work, and she looks up. Professor White. A tall, sleek, elegant man in a long black overcoat; even though it's not winter yet. It matches the color of his foxy eyes. He's clean-shaven and stylish. His looks hold no doubt that he's one of the more popular professors among the students here. He's an alpha, too. "Professor White. What can I do for you?"The man clicks his tongue in annoyance, directed more to himself and some other party than the receptionist in front of him, before he begins to speak. "I've been told by the department that my schedule's been... how do I put it, re-arranged to fit in with the arrival of a new tutor here. Very unprofessional for them to do during the middle of the year, if you ask me, but what can I say? Have they sent you the new arrangements yet, or do I need to wait to get those?" "Ah," Alexis perks up at the mention of the new schedule, promptly opening a few tabs on her browser — most likely checking her emails for the file. "They have sent me that. I can print it out for you, if that's what you'd like?""Please do. And could you forward me a copy?""Of course." Alexis' attention isn't the only thing the man draws towards himself, however. While he's conversing with the young lady, a pair of curious eyes scan him up and down. There are very few things that can distract Summer when she's engrossed in her coloring books, but this man manages to do it without putting in any effort. And she knows exactly what about him is calling for her. "My hair!" At the high pitched words, White turns to the source, only to be met by a pair of wide, slightly awestruck? eyes. He raises a brow at the amusing sight in front of him, a little confused by what she meant with her comment. A little girl, no more than the age of a toddler, is stunned at the sight of him. What an unexpected day. First, his schedule's been rearranged, making it extremely difficult for him to navigate between his lectures, and now, some child is staring at him like he's some magical creature that just emerged from the woods. "Your kid?"Alexis flushes slightly at the implications before shaking her head. As adorable as Summer is, she's not Alexis' kid. Alexis is barely twenty-eight (and while age didn't stop Shiloh from having Summer, she'd like to wait a few more years before she takes that big of a step in her life). "N-no. A student's kid. I'm just keeping an eye on her until they're done with their classes. Anyway, professor, you can take a seat while I print the spreadsheet out for you. The printer's out of ink, so I'll have to fix that, too. Just a sec." White hums in response. However, Alexis' words don't fail to have him a little alert. A student's kid. A toddler. Things like these are rare, but they definitely happen. He's been teaching at this university for years already, and he definitely knows of an instance in the past where something like this had happened among students before. It's none of his business, and yet he can't help but feel like it is. "You have my hair!" The same voice repeats, this time pointing a finger at the older man. She quickly retracts her hand and hides it behind her back once she realizes that she's pointing, though. White chuckles a little at that. Whoever this kid is, she's got decent manners. Her words have him running a hand through his hair and messing up his neat side-part. It's only then that he notices that her hair's the same color as his. Chestnut brown. And her eyes... the same black as his. It has to be a coincidence, though. A lot of people have black eyes. The hair is just another very narrow coincidence; even though he's got an inkling that it's not. "And which student's kid is this?" Alexis pauses her work at the printer, rubbing off any ink that had gotten on her hands onto her black pencil skirt. She looks at Summer again, but she decides to keep her mouth shut. She's not her kid, after all. She doesn't know if Shiloh would be comfortable telling other people this information. "I'm afraid that's not something I can tell you." Professor White seems to understand what she's referring to, and he gives her a small nod. That was out of place for him to ask, he now realizes. He murmurs a small apology before pulling his phone out of his pocket. It's none of his business whose toddler that is. He moves over to a couch nearby, sinking down onto it in the meantime of waiting for his schedule to be printed out. What he wasn't expecting was for the little girl to make her way out of the receptionist's booth and follow him. She knows she shouldn't be talking to strangers, and if her dada were to catch sight of this, he'd be very worried, and he'd give her a long talk about stranger-danger. But the man looks like a good guy. Besides, his overcoat makes it look like he's wearing a cape, so he's basically a superhero! And if anything happens, the kind lady with glasses is right there to swoop in and save her. "Hello," White gives the girl a small smile, not knowing what else to really say to her. He can't just ask why she's following him around or looking at him like he's some mythical being that just arrived on Earth. However, the girl doesn't speak. She only climbs beside him onto the couch — attempts to climb, anyway. It takes her a while before White offers her a hand and she takes it for leverage — and once she's sat down, kicks her feet back and forth while keeping her eyes dead set on him. "Can't talk to... stranglers.""Strangers?" He corrects her adorable mishap. "Yeah." And yet, she's followed him to the couch. How cute. "And what do I have to do to not be a stranger?" He's only humoring her. White has no business to ever discuss with a little girl such as herself, and he's only waiting here because the printer's taking some time to print out his new schedule. He doesn't care if he's seen as a stranger by some toddler he'll probably never meet again. But it'd be mean to just ignore this kid, who's clearly itching to be near him, who's fascinated by the sight of him. "Name, please?" "You want my name?""Uh-huh. Then no more stranglers." He chuckles again at her naivety. If a name was all it took to not be strangers for her, then she had a lot to learn about safety. But, she's only a toddler, so he doesn't press on it too much."Well, I'm called 'Professor White' by my students. But you wanna know a secret?"Summer gasps, her little hands moving up to cover her mouth. She loves secrets. She nods vigorously, her little braids moving along with her head. "My first name's Lawrence."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
09:27 a.m.Shiloh's just on time. Thankfully, when he's rushing over to the reception, Alexis is still there. She's standing up, putting away her things in her little handbag. He's so glad she hasn't left yet. He doesn't know what he'd do if she had. Jesse's also approaching, but not at the same frantic pace that Shiloh is. He stands still, taking a moment to catch his breath while the other omega male enters the reception booth and exchanges a few words with Alexis. That has her turning around, supposedly looking for something, or someone. When she sees Shiloh, she smiles. Turns out she was looking for him. Shiloh returns the smile, resuming his steps. It'd taken him longer than he'd like to admit to exit that lecture hall. He was so engrossed in the discussion going on that he'd completely lost track of the time. Too bad he couldn't stay for long. He really wanted to. His daughter needs him more, though. "Where's Summer?" Shiloh asks once he's within a close enough range to the two receptionists. The response he gets from Alexis is a nod of her head towards the sitting area nearby, and when Shiloh follows her gaze, he feels his blood run cold. "Right there."That can't be right. He must be seeing wrong. He blinks a few times, rubbing at his eyes. When he opens them again, praying that he was just feeling tired and paranoid, seeing hallucinations, he's only greeted with the haunting sight again. Shiloh stumbles a little on his feet, his face draining of any of the color it once had. He can feel the hairs on his body rising along with a layer of goosebumps, and everything within him is begging him to grab Summer from there and run. It only gets worse as he hears Alexis make the subtlest of comments about how the pair look like the perfect father-daughter duo, matching hair and all. It was probably said in jest, but Shiloh feels nauseous. No. This isn't happening right now. He closes his eyes shut. And, when he opens them again, nothing changes. He'd done everything to get rid of Lawrence. Blocking his number, blocking him on all platforms, even his email address, burning any gifts that the older male had given to him (except for Summer), and cutting all ties with him. He'd even switched professors and changed to morning classes so that he wouldn't have to ever bump into the motherfucker and see his sorry excuse of a face again. He'd burnt all the bridges there were. There wasn't a single possibility for the man to ever so much as glance at Shiloh now. So why is he here again? Why is he back to haunt Shiloh? Hasn't he done enough damage already? Why can't Shiloh's life ever give him break? Hasn't he been dragged through the dirt enough? Shiloh gives Alexis a small murmur of thanks before he's charging towards the pair. He's quick to snatch Summer right up in his arms. He hadn't meant to be so rough with his movements, but he couldn't help it. Something about the sight of Lawrence has him feeling on edge. He doesn't want the guy anywhere near his daughter. "Dada!" The little girl squeals, making Shiloh's heart ache. She should be frightened and alarmed at how he'd snuck up on her to carry her, and yet she isn't. Always so trusting of him. It's a trait that's going to be the death of him. "I made a friend!"He feels Lawrence's eyes on him. It's not pleasant at all. Shiloh feels like throwing up, like his vision's going blurry, like he's going to fall to the ground within the blink of an eye. Shiloh gives Summer a small, pathetic smile. He can't find it in him to reply to her. His throat feels dry, and he doesn't trust himself to speak without breaking out into frantic screams or sobs. Unfortunately, someone beats him to it."Shiloh. Long time no see," the deep, masculine voice rings out, making a chill run down Shiloh's spine. It sends a blur of memories through his mind. That voice calling out his name like it used to in the past... how he'd fall asleep to it and how it'd coax him up in the mornings. All the sweet things he's heard that voice whisper in his ears; all the betrayal it's made him feel. "She's yours?"Shiloh wants to scream out, but he also knows he's in no position to get mad at Lawrence. He's the one who blocked him first, he's the one who cut the man out of his life without so much as a goodbye — though, scum of the Earth like Lawrence don't really deserve that, do they? They don't deserve nice goodbyes. Shiloh doesn't need to explain himself to that bastard. He's got his reasons for doing everything he did, and he isn't letting Lawrence get in the way of his life now that it's got some semblance of normality. "Dada shaking..." Summer's voice brings Shiloh back to reality, and he realizes that this whole time, he's just been staring off into the space right next to Lawrence's face while zoning out. And he's trembling. As if he didn't look like enough of a fool already. He clears his throat, turning away on his heels from the older man. There's nothing he needs to say to him. He'll pretend as if he didn't hear him, he'll pretend as if he's nonexistent; like he's grown accustomed to doing. He didn't need Lawrence so far, and he sure as hell doesn't need him now; messing up his life again for a second time. Shiloh's doing just fine with himself and Summer. He makes quick steps towards the reception booth. Alexis hands him the coloring book and pencils that Summer was using before she decided to abandon her work and follow Lawrence around like a lost puppy, and he thanks her. "Say 'thank you' to Alexis, pumpkin.""Thank you!"Alexis smiles, using her index finger to give Summer a tap on her nose. The action makes the little girl giggle, her voice resounding through the area. Usually, the sounds of his daughter's laughs and squeals are enough to make Shiloh cheer up and forget everything around him, but it's not having the same effect on him as it used to. He's still shaken, he's still tense and on-edge. It won't stop until Lawrence gets out of his sight. "Well, I've got to head out now," she muses, fixing her earring in the the reflection of her phone screen. Then, she turns back to the duo and blows a playful kiss to Summer, who's eager to reciprocate the action with both of her little hands. "Good luck with your dentist's appointment.""Thanks. You two have a good day, too."Shiloh dreads the sight of Alexis' fading figure as she walks further and further away. Now, it's just him, Summer, Jesse, and... Lawrence. Doesn't he have a lecture to give? Somewhere else to be? Shiloh always had to be unfortunate enough to be stuck in these miserable situations. The timing is just immaculate. He stuffs Summer's things back into his tote, ready to head out. He's got a lot of things to do. Grocery shopping on the way back, dropping Summer home and feeding her lunch so that he can go work his shift at the smoothie-bar. He'll have to ask Julie if she's free for a few hours to watch over his daughter. If not, he'll just take her along with him again. The owner there definitely adores her, and they're always giving her a smoothie on the house when they see her. Though, he'll have to make sure she doesn't drink too much from the glass. The last time she did, she was up all night, throwing up and sobbing while Shiloh had to hold her hair back and tell her she was going to be okay in the morning. Jesse's taken over Alexis' place, already busy with a phone call. That's Shiloh's cue to leave. But he can't. He feels a pair of eyes burning into the back of his skull, staring him down. He doesn't need to speculate who it belongs to. That's an obvious answer. Summer's peering over Shiloh's shoulder to get a look at her new 'friend'. He can feel how she's kicking her feet in excitement against his arms. "Shiloh." There it is again, that damn voice. Ear-grating and yet so, so sensual and calming. He doesn't want to turn around. He really doesn't. But Summer's little comment of 'friend know dada?' has him reluctantly doing so."Professor White, it was so nice bumping into you." It wasn't. Shiloh's gritting his teeth as he speaks. "But, unfortunately, I'm in a bit of a rush. Maybe we can catch up later?" He hopes later is never. The expression on Lawrence's face is barely readable. It's the same composed, calm look he always has on. Shiloh remembers when he would be able to draw out such different contortions of that very same face. Erotic, sensual, dominating. But that's a memory he no longer wants to dwell in. His gaze speaks volumes. The singular raised brow still looks sexy, even after three years and nine months away from him. 'What aren't you telling me?'But what does Shiloh really need to tell Lawrence? Isn't the sight of Summer enough of an answer? The chestnut hair, the black eyes. The same shaped cupid's bow, the same slim nose and foxy eyes. It doesn't take long to figure out that she's a mini-Lawrence. "It's like you disappeared off of the face of the Earth back then, and yet... here you are again." Shiloh doesn't know what to say."Uh... yeah. Listen, I really need to go—""No, let's have coffee. On me, of course. I want to talk."Lawrence nods towards Summer. It's obvious what he's trying to say. He wants to talk. He wants to talk about her. Summer squirms in Shiloh's arms, her eyes still trained on the man before her. It's like she's fascinated by him, all simply because he's got the same hair as her. Little does she know. "Dada, we go with friend?" Shiloh sucks in a shaky breath. He doesn't want to be in this situation right now. Anything but this. Anything. He hates interactions and people as is. Everything's a blur, everything's a mess. He doesn't know what to say nor what to do. There are a million things swarming in his mind; a million ways to answer Lawrence. Should he just brush it off? Should he give the man a piece of his mind? Should he walk away and pretend like he didn't hear a thing? He doesn't know. He's sweating from his palms, his heartbeat is racing. Finally, he decides on an approach. "No, pumpkin, we're not going with this creep. He's not your friend. What'd I tell you about strangers?""... I not s'posed to talk to them.""Exactly." ✩°Shiloh's visibly shaken. Given his circumstances, it's understandable. He just bumped into the one person he's been trying to forget. He didn't think it'd affect him this much, though. He can't focus, and he's extremely paranoid and on-edge. Every new customer that enters the store, Shiloh feels himself hiding his face, just in case Lawrence decided to follow him here. He knows that's absurd. He knows Lawrence has better things to do. He's a fucking professor with a job. Still, he can't help it. "Yeah... that'll be $16.40. Cash or cash?""...Excuse me? $16.40? What do you guys put in these things? I'm not paying that much for a smoothie."Did he say $16.40? Shiloh narrows his eyes, scanning the numbers on the small screen in front of him. $6.40; not $16.40. He must be feeling scatterbrained. He doesn't know what he's doing, honestly. Shiloh's living in his head right now. Everything around him feels distant; fuzzy. "S-sorry. My bad. I read that wrong. It's $6.40. Would you like to pay with cash or card?" The customer slams his card down on the counter — Shiloh's worked in retail long enough to recognize hostility and aggressiveness. That was definitely a little emotionally fueled. However, he also knows not to cause a scene. It's all smiles and nods in this line of work, lest he wants undesired issues to form. He turns the card reader to the customer, allowing him to pay for his drink. The whole time, Shiloh's shaking. He has no reason to be this alarmed. Lawrence won't come for him here. He's safe. Why does he still feel the goosebumps? His body's constantly in a state of fight-or-flight, even when he knows he's not in any real danger at the moment. "Have a good day!" The only response he gets is a grunt. How he hates this job. Shiloh knows he's only doing it for Summer. If it were just himself, he'd be fine with stocking up on instant ramen and going through a pack each for a meal. That's not what he should be feeding a child, though. And formula and baby food don't come cheap; though Summer's reached the age where she's able to tolerate some solid foods. Erika's always sending him some percentage of her paycheck every month, simply because she does it out of the goodness of her heart. That way, he doesn't have to slave away working two or three jobs to provide for Summer. And Shiloh couldn't be more grateful for that. He's glad he has a family to lean back on and support him throughout all of this. If not, he'd probably be found dead in his apartment with his daughter due to the cold or a lack of proper nutrition or whatever else. "Hey, Shiloh. You're on break now."A hand on his shoulder momentarily alarms Shiloh. But, he soon realizes that it's not Lawrence. Of course it isn't. He shouldn't be so on-edge. It's only his coworker, Ian. "I am? I thought I had ten minutes still left on the clock." "Nah," Ian shakes his head, patting Shiloh's back a few times. It's friendly. He's a beta. Shiloh doesn't have to put his guard up around him. "Your phone's blowing up back there. Figured you should go check it out. I'll handle things while you go see what's up."Julie's with Summer back at his apartment. Could it be her trying to reach out to him? Has something happened? Shiloh's mind is running a mile a minute right now. He quickly gives Ian a small nod of thanks before rushing to where he's kept his bag and his phone.
[7 missed calls].
Frantic, Shiloh unlocks his phone, but is stumped when he does. All seven calls come from an unknown number. It's not his mother, definitely not his father. Not Erika or Julie, not Alexis... those are the people Shiloh can list off the top of his head. He likes to keep his circle small, so that means he doesn't interact with people he doesn't have to. If someone were to call him, he'd be sure he'd know them beforehand. This number isn't one he's ever seen before.Briefly, Shiloh's thoughts wander back to Lawrence. No. That couldn't be it. He's blocked Lawrence's number. And this definitely isn't him. It can't be. There's absolutely no reason for Lawrence to call him.He decides to brush it off. Whoever it is, he'll find about sooner or later. Maybe he'll bump into them, get a 'hey, I called you,' to which he'll awkwardly laugh off and answer with 'sorry, I was at my job and didn't have the time to pick up the calls'. It's all okay. It's all normal. Nothing to be worried about. It's not that serious, and it'll never be. But then his phone rings again. The screen lights up, displaying that same number. Unknown caller. Shiloh contemplates not answering it. There's nothing wrong with doing that. He'll just ignore it. It's not like he'll get in trouble if he does. Besides, he's never liked talking to people he doesn't know over the phone. If it's that serious, then they'll send a text. They've called him eight times already, so that must mean they have every intention to reach out to him. Shiloh can just... leave his phone be and wait for a text. But then it rings again. And again. Again, again, again.
[13 missed calls].
All from the same number.It's driving him crazy. He quickly checks his texts, but there are none from this mysterious number. Obviously, they want to talk over the phone. And they're persistent, determined to call until he picks up. Shiloh relents, sighing hesitantly while answering the call currently invading his screen. It won't hurt to answer. He'll just see who it is that needs to talk to him so bad. "... hello?""Shil—"
Nope.
The one syllable is all it takes for Shiloh to recognize who it is. He immediately ends the call, tossing his phone off onto the table of the break room. He feels as if his phone's been infected, like he needs to burn it to get rid of the memory of what just happened. And, oh, it just keeps ringing. The chilling vibrations against the wood of the table make Shiloh feel like screaming. They won't stop. One moment, he thinks everything has ended. Calm after the storm. Not even a second later, his screen comes to life with a roar, the same numbers ominously dancing on display. He can't do this. But Shiloh knows he can't just sit around and let things happen, either. The caller on the other side of the line is extremely insistent. Running away from it won't get him anywhere. So, with a shaky and extremely anxious whimper, he decides to answer the call. He'll just give the man a piece of his mind. "Stop calling me! You... you fucking freak! I don't want anything to do with you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"There. He's said it. Shiloh's shaking, but hell, did that feel amazing to get off his chest. "Angel," the voice is deep, commanding. Not the response he expected. Shiloh doesn't need to be told that the man is clearly pissed off. Oh, he just knows how much trouble he's in. The sweet pet name does nothing to lessen the harsh tone of voice. "Let's not act like kids, hm?""I-I'm not acting like a ki—""You run away without a single explanation, like a child that doesn't want to be held accountable, and now you try to deny it?""N-no... that's not what I—""Where are you right now?" "That's none of your business. I... I'm hanging up, so..."Every bone in Shiloh's body is telling him to do so. But he can't bring himself to. How strange. He doesn't know what's taken over him. "I'm not playing your games again. I'll ask you one more time, Shiloh. Where. Are. You?""... 012." "012?"Shiloh cringes just a little. Why does everything have to be like this for him?"The.. the smoothie place right across uhh... the park with the big duck pond. Weird name, I know. Owner's some sort of hipp—"He doesn't even get the time to finish his sentence. "I'm coming to pick you up."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Jazz and chatter. This isn't the scene Shiloh is used to. Not anymore. It's all too much for him, all too suffocating and condescending. Look where you'll never be. Look at what you'll never achieve. Awkward, is all he can think right now. So awkward. He hasn't been in a place like this in forever. The large windows, the lavishly intricate interior, the people around him all wearing seamless, well-tailored outfits. Shiloh feels stupid in his oversized bomber jacket and baggy jeans. It all screams to him something that he knows isn't for him. Oh, how much he hates this; how much he'd kill for it to be over before the tension kills him. "Ah- no wine for me, thanks." Shiloh abruptly pulls his glass away as he sees the waiter lower the bottle to pour him some. But he's too slow, and it ends up in the wine getting all over the table. The waiter, a bit annoyed and also embarrassed, is quick to apologize. And Shiloh does too, reaching for as many napkins as he can grab in one go to hopefully blot everything dry. "My apologies, sir. Let me—""No, that's alright. I'm sorry. My fault. I'll do it." He's going to have to pay for the wine, Shiloh bets. He's going to have to pay for it, even if he didn't drink a single sip. It's going to be added to the check. Shiloh knows he probably doesn't have the money on him in this moment to amount to the price of the (no doubt expensive) wine. It's a shame, really. This luxurious restaurant is mocking him for every second he spends in it. He'd ordered the least expensive thing on the menu — a tomato salad with some kind of cheese in it. Shiloh doesn't even like tomatoes. He's only picked at the red, funnily-shaped slices of the dressing-slathered fruit and pushed them around on his plate while nibbling on a few bites of the white crumbles of cheese. Shiloh hates this place. He feels like a fish out of water. The soaked napkins eventually make his fingers wet, and Shiloh has to reach for a few more. By this point, the table is practically covered in balls of flimsy, papery alcohol. He can feel the waiter's judging eye on him. What an embarrassment. The waiter simply brushes Shiloh off, turning to the man seated right across from him. Rude, much. This whole time, Shiloh hasn't dared to look at Lawrence's face; not after he called him a 'creep' in front of Summer this morning. Awkward, awkward, awkward. While it is a little humiliating to be treated like someone inferior (Shiloh knows it's because he doesn't really look the part of a person that would dine at an establishment like this. Who has time for him, right?), he's just glad the attention has been directed away from him. He quietly sinks back against his seat, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. He'd love to be anywhere but here right now. "Since my partner isn't drinking, I don't think it'd be suitable for me to do so."Partner, huh? Shiloh hasn't heard that word in a while. It doesn't do anything to appeal to him. But it doesn't repulse him like he thought it would, either. He's not Lawrence's partner: not anymore. He knows the man is only using the term for formalities. The two continue to talk about something: how, yes, he knows he specifically ordered the wine, but also how there's now been a change of plans — something about it being rude to drink on his own, blah-blah. Shiloh doesn't particularly care. He hasn't had anything to eat since the scraps of the lunch he'd made for Summer at noon; which consisted of sandwich crusts (like any toddler, she doesn't like those, and insists for them to be cut off; more food for Shiloh), a few apple slices, a handful of those goldfish crackers that she likes, and the rest of the banana-flavored yogurt that Summer didn't feel like finishing because it was 'too banana-y'. Shiloh's too hungry to care about anything but the moment he'll get to go back to his apartment and dig into something actually edible and satiating. The waiter leaves, and the air at the table feels awkward yet again — awkward for Shiloh, at least."Don't you like this place? I thought it was right up your alley." Shiloh cringes at Lawrence's words. Right up his alley. He wished. But, Shiloh does recall all the times in the past where he'd drag Lawrence to the most expensive places in whatever area they were in at the moment to eat at. That was back when they had a thing going on between them. They weren't dating; it was something entirely different. Fuckbuddies? Maybe. The no-strings-attached approach where they'd occasionally sleep together and Lawrence would treat him in return. He'd had no problem making Lawrence spend all his money on him. Now, Shiloh just feels icky.It's crazy how time has changed him so much. "It's... not bad." He takes a sip of his water, clearing his throat as he speaks. Fish out of water. Shiloh doesn't belong here. He sticks out like a sore thumb. All he really wants is to go back home and cuddle up with Summer while they watch a movie together. This is draining. "Not bad? And yet you haven't even touched anything on your plate. You were never the type to enjoy salads. Why order one?"He doesn't understand how Lawrence can act so... casual. He's behaving in the same manner a lover would — in the same manner the past Lawrence would — sweet and attentive. Like the three, almost four, years that he'd put so much effort to avoid him into were nothing. Like Shiloh didn't do literally everything in his power to cut Lawrence out of his life. Like Lawrence didn't slip into his rut all those years ago and... ah, forget it. For a moment, the word from earlier flashes back in his mind. Partner. As if.Shiloh can put on just as much of an act as Lawrence is. He'll get it over with and then he'll never see Lawrence again. It's as easy as that. Shiloh's an expert at burning bridges with people. He'll just do it all over again. "On a diet," Shiloh responds, muffling his lie with the water again, to which Lawrence only raises an amused brow at. His lips stay curled in that little smile he always has when he finds something adorable. Shiloh quickly turns his head to the side, coughing a little. "That explains it," Lawrence speaks again, busy with cutting himself a bite-sized portion of the steak he's got on his plate. Shiloh wishes he could have some of that. The more he lets his eyes linger on the slab of meat, the more he regrets his decision of ordering a salad. But he knows he had to. A single look at the menu earlier, and Shiloh was sure he couldn't afford a damn thing in this place. He could spend that money elsewhere; on things for Summer, for example. What he wasn't expecting was for Lawrence to then place the cut piece on his own plate. Dumbfounded for a second, Shiloh takes in how much the red meat look so out-of-place amongst the herb-slathered tomatoes. Lawrence nods towards it, coaxing Shiloh to eat it. 'One bite won't hurt your diet, will it?' his gaze says. And so Shiloh does. He pierces his fork into the meat and brings it to his mouth. Now he knows why this place is so expensive. The steak practically melts in his mouth, tender and rich. Then comes another piece, which Shiloh does the same to. Another, and another. Suddenly, Shiloh feels like Summer; patiently waiting for someone to cut up her food into little pieces so that she can eat it without a fuss. Quick to correct whatever it is that's going on, Shiloh abruptly pushes his plate to the side. As hungry as he is, he's not going to give Lawrence any chance to creep back into his heart again. "Professor White." No, Shiloh isn't going to call Lawrence by his first name. He doesn't care about the implications of that, of what people who heard that might think of the relationship between the two of them. All his walls are up right now. Besides, their assumptions would've been right three years ago or so. "I'd appreciate if we could wrap this up already. I have places to be." That bluntness doesn't faze Lawrence like Shiloh hoped it would. He's still smiling, still looking at Shiloh like he used to in the past. Does he not care? Is Shiloh the only one feeling so distressed right now? "Of course. You're very busy these days, aren't you?" His words aren't unkind or mocking. Instead, they sound fond... a hint of awe in them. Shiloh must be imagining things. Those foxy eyes staring right into his make him feel weak. "Yeah... I-I mean, sorta."He'll get straight to the point now, Shiloh hopes."You named her 'pumpkin'?"At that, Shiloh's face flushes a shade of red. He's grown so used to calling Summer by that term of endearment that she must've picked up on it as her literal name. Even Julie calls her 'pumpkin', simply because Summer responds to it better. Shiloh quickly shakes his head, fingers fiddling with his fork. "Did she tell you that?"Lawrence nods with a smile. That damn smile. It's sending all sorts of mixed feelings within Shiloh. He likes it, that's a given. But it's also weird to see Lawrence so eerily calm about all of this. No concern? No sort of apprehension or confusion? None at all? He knows that if he were an alpha and he saw a child who resembled him walking around with some omega he used to be heavily intimate with, he'd definitely have a lot of questions to ask. Lawrence, for some reason, isn't behaving like Shiloh expected him to. He'd made so much of a fuss over the phone earlier, but now it's just... gone?"She did. Told me her dada calls her pumpkin; sometimes angel." "Well... her name's Summer," Shiloh mumbles out, reminding himself to call Summer by her actual name more often from now on. How many people has she gone around giving the wrong name to? "Summer..." Lawrence repeats, like he's sounding the name out. Shiloh wonders how she'd respond to being called that by Lawrence. But then he reminds himself that he's perfectly fine without that interaction ever happening. Then, he asks the thing Shiloh's been dreading ever since the moment his eyes landed on the older man this morning in front of the reception booth."I presume she's mine?" No beating around the bush, huh? No subtlety in the slightest. Lawrence has always been blunt with his words, Shiloh supposes. I presume she's mine. 'Mine'. His. Summer is Lawrence's daughter. It's the truth, and there'd be no way for Shiloh to prove that wrong. He looks at Lawrence, who's gone back to resuming his meal. His eyes are still on Shiloh nonetheless, patiently waiting for an answer. How he can be so composed, Shiloh will probably never find out. He doesn't want to find out. He wants nothing to do with Lawrence anymore. Shiloh can feel his hands trembling. His fingers twitch nervously. He doesn't know why he feels this way around Lawrence. He isn't scared of the man. Maybe it's due to the fact that Shiloh could never figure out what Lawrence was actually thinking. He's always got that pleasant expression on his face, always smiling and dealing with his students like it was the most natural thing for him to do. That had initially drawn him to his professor. Then, things ended up getting a little hazy; the line between what was safe for him to do and what wasn't blurring. He hasn't done anything wrong. He hasn't harmed Lawrence in any way. Why does he feel so guilty, then? Shiloh can't explain it. Is his gaze still warm, or has it turned scrutinizing? Shiloh can't find it in himself to look back at Lawrence in this moment."She is... b-but that doesn't mean you have to, you know, step in.""And why's that?""I don't want to trap you." He can't just admit that he doesn't like Lawrence anymore and he doesn't want the man back in his life, after all. A large, warm hand lands on Shiloh's one while he speaks, making him pause. He doesn't even realize how shaky he's gone. Lawrence's thumb rubs against the back of his hand, providing some sort of comfort. "Who said anything about trapping me?""Well... I assumed, since you—""Shiloh, don't ever assume my thoughts would be so... heinous. Besides, I wouldn't mind being trapped by you."Shiloh blinks. Once, then twice. His brows furrow in confusion. Why is Lawrence behaving like this? Have the years apart him changed him? That can't be it. He clears his throat. "In any case, that's all we needed to talk about, right? I have to go, so if you could call a waiter over, I'll pay my part and leave." Lawrence tuts, his hand still holding onto Shiloh's. He must be imagining things, because he feels the man's grip grow tighter; like he doesn't want Shiloh to leave. "There's the other thing that's been bothering me. Your need to avoid everything. Wasn't this much time away from me enough?" ✩°Never had he expected to be seated on this couch ever again. Yet here he is. Life can be surprisingly ironic. After all he's done so far to avoid Lawrence, he's winded right back to square one."Are you done with your call?""... mhm."He's informed Julie of this already. That he's had an unexpected change of plans; that she can go ahead and make (or order) some dinner for both herself and Summer to eat at home while he's out. He'll pay her back the full price, of course, if she does decide to order in. It's his way of compensating for having her babysit for longer than she agreed to. Shiloh knows Julie wouldn't mind in the slightest even if she had to watch over Summer overnight, but inside, he definitely feels like he owes her much more than he gives her for all the help she provides. He sets his phone down, still looking at his home screen in case any new texts from Julie decide to pop up. But when the screen goes black, Shiloh is forced to come back to reality again. The atmosphere around him is warm, cozy. A large couch, an equally pretty coffee table. On it sit two cups, one already finished and one with the reddish-brown liquid inside gone cold because Shiloh doesn't want to drink anything. He's too nervous. But he's also a little excited. He doesn't know why. Maybe the familiarity of this place sparks something from within. Nevertheless, Shiloh's trying the best he can to push those feelings down. There's an empty plate on the coffee table, too. Shiloh is embarrassed to admit it, but he'd practically scarfed down the meal Lawrence had offered him. He was just so hungry, and the few bites of tomato and Lawrence's steak earlier at that restaurant (Lawrence had insisted that he foot the bill, so Shiloh didn't have to spend a single penny) were barely enough to calm him down. This place is ten times better than the small little apartment he and Summer live in. It's large, it's comfortable. A house, two story. Sliding glass doors that lead to a spacious back porch, large open-plan kitchen. He's seen this place before countless times, but every time, he falls in love with it more and more. He knows Lawrence is pretty well-off. He comes from a family made of money. And yet, he'd sought out pleasure from someone like Shiloh. However, he also knows not to dwell on the past. "I don't think I'm the type to act out during one of my ruts," Lawrence speaks calmly, continuing the conversation they were having before Shiloh had called Julie. He offers Shiloh a piece of candy while he speaks, nodding towards the wrapped little sphere in the palm of his hand. Shiloh reaches out to take it, but once it's in his grasp, he doesn't open it."Well, you did act out," Shiloh immediately retaliates, to which Lawrence raises a brow at. He looks so good in that plain white t-shirt that he's changed into. The fabric's a bit thin, giving Shiloh all the access to the toned muscles underneath. Over the years, they've only gotten better. Those abs look so much hotter than he last remembers, and so do his pecs. His arms, his shoulders... name it all. "And for that, I apologize. But you know you could've told me this sooner instead of running away from it. We could have worked something out."Shiloh looks down at his lap, biting on his bottom lip. He doesn't need to be reminded of that. He knows he was immature, he knows he was acting childish. He's the one who immediately cut all ties with Lawrence as soon as he could after everything that happened. Maybe he should've given Lawrence an explanation before he decided to ghost him. "I had my reasons.""I know you did. I'm not trying to blame you or do anything to accuse you, because I know you're a rational person, Shiloh. We all have our reasons, and you don't need to explain yourself to me. I just..." Lawrence sighs, and he doesn't speak further. Shiloh can tell the mood has changed. Lawrence stands up now, walking over to his kitchen with the dishes previously on the coffee table in his hands. Shiloh watches his frame, observing how the older man tries to direct his mind elsewhere by distracting himself with mundane tasks like dumping the tea Shiloh didn't drink down the drain and loading the other things into the dishwasher. Like always, he can never tell what Lawrence is thinking. But, this time around, Shiloh feels a little bad. There's a certain softness in Lawrence's eyes, and even from afar, Shiloh knows he probably feels a little troubled. But he doesn't know why that is. It's only when Lawrence speaks again that Shiloh feels his heart sink with guilt."It would've been nice to know I had a daughter this whole time."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"Excuse me, Professor White?"Shiloh doesn't know what he's doing, if he's going to be completely honest. Was this a dare? No. Did he do it out of his own volition? Well, he's not entirely sure of that, either. It was an urge, maybe some sort of impulsive thought that he gave into because he believed it would cause no harm. He's always had an attraction to his professor. He wouldn't say it's anything too serious. Just a little voice within him that tells him 'hey, that guy's fucking hot, huh?' every time their eyes meet during a lecture. Shiloh's not the only one who feels this way, anyway. He's heard his peers talk about White in much, much more filthier ways than he'd ever care to admit he does. The one that's stuck the most is the time he heard another omega, whom Shiloh was directly sitting behind, whisper to his friend about how he'd let White, verbatim, 'hit it raw, fill me with his jizz, and knot me as many times as he wants every night'. At the time, Shiloh had definitely felt flustered upon hearing such a thing. Now, every time he so much as glances at his professor, he can't say he doesn't think the same. He's a hot, older guy. He's soft spoken and fun, he's charismatic and put-together. He's an alpha. It's natural to gravitate towards a man like that. White turns his attention away from the laptop in front of him and onto Shiloh. From the corner of Shiloh's eyes, he can make out all the other students filing out of the lecture hall, leaving him alone with the professor. It makes him feel a little silly, really. Now that he's got the older man's eyes on him, he doesn't really know what he was even planning to do in the first place. "Is there anything I can help you with?" "U-um..." Shiloh looks around, desperately trying to think something up so he doesn't look as stupid as he feels right now. He doesn't want to blow his first ever one-on-one interaction with his professor, after all. That'd make him get the wrong impression of Shiloh. So, he does the first thing that comes to mind. Remember how kids used to give their elementary teachers apples to get in their good-graces? "Actually, I'm here for you. T-to help you, I mean. Do... do you need any help?"White chuckles, and what was it that that omega had said about him again? Hit it raw-"Well, that's certainly an offer I don't get everyday from my students." He looks around, as if trying to find something for Shiloh to 'help' with. Shiloh hopes he's not being a bother right now. He should've just stuck to his usual routine of finding Julie and heading over to that burger shack with the crazy cheap prices. He always feels awfully hungry after his afternoon lectures, after all. But he's gone ahead and done it, so he can't just back out of it now. If things do get awkward, Shiloh will just pretend he's answering a call while he walks off. Avoidance comes easy to him."Could you unplug the charger for me, then? I don't really think there's much else for you to do..." Shiloh nods, walking over behind White to unplug the laptop's charger. From here, he can vividly bask in the alpha's scent. It's not too strong, which must mean he's probably on some suppressants. That's understandable. He's a professor. He shouldn't be letting out his scent at full-capacity in a public area littered with other people susceptible to it. It's the responsible thing to do. However, the subtle woody musk paired with cardamom and jasmine is enough to have Shiloh already feeling tense. Spicy, woody, warm; sharp and yet clean and airy. Like Autumn. It matches his appearance well, Shiloh thinks. He wonders what it would smell like on his own skin, how it'd be if White weren't on any suppressants. Shiloh's an unstable omega. His heats, unlike how they'd periodically occur once every two months for normal omegas, only happen once every three months. Sometimes, and the 'unstable' contributes to this, he'll have two heats back to back, or none at all. Despite that, he can just imagine how good it'd feel to spend a heat surrounded by a scent so... alluring. The man doesn't seem to pay Shiloh much mind, which makes Shiloh frown a little. Though, it's not anything he's not used to. Most people see him as a beta — the large, dark-blue denim shorts with too many pockets on them and the oversized t-shirt he's got on don't help in the slightest, nor do his slender (yet toned; not too muscular, but toned) legs adorned with calf-high socks and chunky sneakers. He wouldn't be surprised if White assumed he was a beta, too. Maybe betas aren't the man's type. Maybe Shiloh just isn't the man's type.Come to think of it, Shiloh wants to check something for himself. He turns back towards White, deciding to act a bit bold. He wants to take a chance here. Shiloh doesn't usually behave like this. But, if he's going to, he wants for there to be no repercussions to his actions. Because while, yes, he is trying to shoot his shot with his professor, he isn't a home-wrecker. No ring. Shiloh lets out an exhale of relief. He's safe to have a go at White, that means. But, something else also catches Shiloh's attention. He pauses for a second to muster up his courage, but eventually lets his hand rest atop White's one currently on the laptop's mouse. He feels the man stiffen for a moment, but White doesn't move away. Is that a cue for him to continue? Shiloh doesn't know. However, he isn't going to look back now. "Professor White, you have really nice hands." Shiloh isn't lying. Comparing the two hands, Shiloh's looks much smaller than the one its on. Long, straight fingers, defined, prominent knuckles. Lots of veins peeking out. He can feel his heart racing; mostly himself trying to come to terms with that fact that he's being so... forward. Shiloh never makes the first move, ever. He's a 'won't speak to unless spoken to' type of person. This is new. He didn't know he had it in him to do this."Is that so?" What makes Shiloh's face flush is the fact that his professor isn't backing off. He hasn't taken his hand off of the mouse. He isn't pushing Shiloh's one away, either. Maybe, just maybe, Shiloh is his type? He knows he's good-looking, after all, even if he is mistaken for a beta most of the time. He can't be too optimistic, but things definitely are going well for him right now. And White doesn't sound taken aback or annoyed. In fact, he sounds a little sensual, like he's reciprocating Shiloh's flirtatious tone of voice."Mm.. they're really hot. Just like- like the rest of you..." He bites his bottom lip, keeping his eyes on their hands as he gently intertwines his fingers with the older man's ones and gives his hand a little squeeze. Shiloh's usually the one getting flirted with, not the one doing the flirting. He hopes he doesn't sound corny right now (he remembers how many times he's blatantly rolled his eyes at alphas who've tried to woo him with one-liners in the past). "Unfortunately for you..." White pauses, and Shiloh catches on. "You don't know my name, do you?" Shiloh doesn't blame White. He's one among many heads of students that attend these lectures. What's more, he prefers to sit at the very back, where he draws the least amount of attention to himself. Shiloh would rather remain in solitude than deal with unwanted people trying to reach out to him. But that can change if he wants it to. If he wants to, he could hit it raw, fill-"I'm afraid not.""It's Shiloh. Remember it.""Beautiful name, and I will remember it. But, as I was saying, Shiloh..." He leans in close, his nose touching Shiloh's. Did it work? Shiloh hopes so. Their eyes meet. Up close, they look even more foxy and bewitching than they do from afar. It's like staring into a lake under the midnight sky. He wants a kiss, he wants more. Now that White is this close to him, his scent makes Shiloh feel a little hazy. Oh, how he wants that kiss. He doesn't care about anything right now. Nothing else matters if he can have White; even if it's merely for a second or two. He can imagine it all. Those lips on his, that scent overpowering all his senses. He'd let the older man push his tongue in, he'd keep his lips parted and mouth open for him. There would be no resistance on his part, because he'd let White know that if he wanted anything, he could simply take it from Shiloh without any hesitation. He'd like for White to be dominant. Shiloh doesn't know what kind of man he is beyond the glimpses he's seen of White as his professor, but he hopes he's a demanding, extremely needy alpha. Needy, not in the sense that he's clingy and attached, but in the sense that he'll need a lot from Shiloh to satisfy himself — which Shiloh will oblige to on this desk as he's bent over and being roughly slammed into while he pleads for the man to go slower and be gentler (but he'd be secretly enjoying the brutality the whole time). Shiloh lets his thoughts wander, lets himself imagine how it'd feel to have one of his legs lifted mid-thrust so that White could angle himself in deeper. He even imagines the sting of a knot locking him in place with his professor. "Unfortunately for you, I like to keep my relationships with my students strictly professional."
Huh?
Shiloh feels like the wind's been knocked out of him. Suddenly, that warm, musky scent is gone. Suddenly, he's standing alone, with White already a few steps away from him. The man's acting as if nothing had just happened, as if this is just as normal as every other day for him. He turns the projector off with its remote, and then he powers off the laptop. Shiloh observes how he pulls out a USB drive and pockets it. Did he just get led on? Shiloh's embarrassed to admit it, but he liked that. He liked that way more than he should've. He'd never seen the older man act so seductive before. The sneak-peek he's gotten of this newfound side of his professor only fuels Shiloh's fire more. God, it's driving him insane. "W-wait." White pauses, looking back at Shiloh with a raised brow. His expression is normal, and Shiloh can't tell if all of that was actually as insignificant to him as his face says it was, or if he's just really good at hiding his thoughts. He's nonchalantly coiling up the charger that Shiloh had unplugged earlier. But it's hard to miss that little amused smile on his face. Shiloh wonders what he might think of him now that he essentially got rejected by the older man. Embarrassing. Shiloh shifts a little on his feet. Those eyes. He feels like he's melting under his gaze. He should stop. He should apologize for acting out, and he should go. Trying to flirt with his professor... he must've been possessed by something in that moment. How brazen of him to do. And yet, he doesn't want to go. Shiloh doesn't want to let this opportunity slip right out of his grasp. He knows it's crazy, but his mind is telling him this is a now-or-never moment. Once he lets White go, he feels like he'll never get him back. It'll only be awkward glances and weird interactions from this point onwards if he doesn't fix things. That's not what he wants."Is it because I look like a beta? B-because I'm not. I'm an omega. I just... I don't look the part, but I am one."He hears the older man chuckle again, all rich and velvety and smooth. It's so hot. White saunters closer, letting one of his palms rest on Shiloh's shoulders. Just when Shiloh gets his hopes up again, he feels a heavy weight in his arms. He looks down to see... a laptop?"It doesn't matter to me if you're an omega, or a beta, or even an alpha. Because you're young, Shiloh. A university freshman; much too young for me. But you've got a pretty face and I'm sure there are plenty of other alphas — or betas, and omegas — your age who like that. Now, could you go and return that laptop for me?""And you don't?""Hm?""You don't like my face?""I said you've got a pretty one, didn't I?""So you do?""What do you want to hear?" Shiloh purses his lips. What does he want to hear? He doesn't know, actually. His heart's beating faster than he ever knew it could right now. White's so, so close to him, and it must be his imagination, but he swears his scent's getting stronger as each second passes. The same images from before briefly flash through Shiloh's mind. Here, on the desk, bent over... He has to shake them away. The tension is thick, almost suffocating. He doesn't even know he's holding in his breath until he has to gasp for air again. This isn't as close as they were earlier, but it definitely feels like it. "I... I want to hear you say that you like how I look."White retracts; not too far away, though, and shakes his head with a chuckle. Did Shiloh say something funny? He doesn't think he did. Does the man think he's some sort of stupid, desperate fool? He doesn't know. He doesn't care. His mind's not really coherent right now. "Shiloh." His name has never sounded better. No one's called for him like that before. "You've got the face of an angel."An angel. He's got the face of an... angel. Shiloh feels his cheeks heating up. His ears and his neck follow suit. How strange. He's never let compliments get to his heart before. Shiloh's always assumed that anyone complimenting him says it out of spite or to mock him. That was the 'fun' thing to do back at his high school, after all. Backhanded compliments. He's seen how kids used to pick each other apart, one feature at a time disguised as pretty little comments of awe. And Shiloh was never personally a victim of that (he kept to himself almost always), but he definitely noticed it enough for his perspective to be heavily swayed.When this man says it, it sounds genuine. So genuine. From the heart. He's not allowed to be so charming. "Then why don't you want me?" "What do you think a thirty-four-year-old could ever want from a nineteen-year-old, hm? Much less, what a professor could want from his student. You're young; go out there and have some fun. I remember I did back when I was your age.""I don't want to have fun; not with other people. I don't like people. I want to have fun with... w-with you. And nobody has to know, if.. if that's what you- if that's something that you... mind." White sighs. It's not dejected, it's not unimpressed. Rather, it's amicable. Polite. Everything about the man before him is just so classy and put-together and perfect. Shiloh wonders if his professor has flaws; if he could even have any of those. "Stubborn, aren't you?"Shiloh doesn't know what to say to that. Is that how he comes off as? Fine. He'll be stubborn if it means he can have his way. He's never cared of the negative connotations people might tie him to. He nods. "Maybe. I can be anything you want me to be."He gets no answer to that. Shiloh bites the inside of his cheek. Was that too much? He doesn't know anymore. He watches as the professor reaches for a pen from his shirt's breast pocket and scribbles something down on a piece of paper on the desk. Shiloh can't tell what it is that he's scribbling away at, though. When White rips the paper and hands it to Shiloh, his eyes immediately dart down to read what's on it.His number.
Shiloh's heart skips a beat. He's got his professor's personal number! That's one small stepping stone to victory, if not a grand feat in itself. Everyone's got his email address, that's nothing special. But Shiloh's got his number. He wants to believe that he's the only one who's gotten this privilege. There's also something else written right below the sequence of digits. Neat, stylish, elegant handwriting. Cursive. He's seen it plenty of times on the whiteboard before. The older man's handwriting is just as refined and poised as he is. 'Call me if you want to grab coffee together.'"Well, I can't promise much. Don't be disappointed if I don't meet your expectations."And with that, he gives Shiloh one final (mirthful? It's impossible to decipher) smile before walking past him and out of the hall. ✩°"Jesus, slow it down with the drinks. You're gonna get alcohol poisoning at this rate.""Juu... Juulliee, you don' mm... don' knowwww how happy 'm... right nowww.""... Yeah, no. I think I do." Shiloh's eyes are hazy, half-lidded, and droopy. This is the best fucking day of his life. He's on cloud-nine. Literally. He feels as if he's on an actual cloud right now. It's so soft, so warm, so nice and fluffy and cozy and... oddly detergent-smelling? "Shiloh, get off my rug."But he doesn't. He stays right where he is, left cheek pressed into Julie's soft throw-rug as he tries to meld his body into it. He'd called White the moment he was off of campus premises, and the man had picked up on the first ring.
'Hey, this is Shiloh.'An airy, almost amused chuckle. 'You want to grab some coffee already?''No... I just, I guess I wanted to see if you gave me your actual number.''And is it my actual number?''Mhm,' he couldn't hide the smile on his face if he tried. That definitely called for a celebration. 'It is.' So, to commemorate, here he is getting piss-drink with Julie in her apartment. Oh, how he loves life. Though, Shiloh hasn't drank all that much; just two cans of beer are enough to have him hammered. He's a lightweight, extremely lightweight. He stares up at Julie for a second, admiring her. A dyed cherry-red bob and the most cat-like eyes he's ever seen on a person. The greyish-green they are definitely add to that. A beta, too. Shiloh's never reserved around her; never felt the need to ever be.He'd met her on campus. She'd accidentally spilt her diet-coke on his clothes and offered to get him a spare shirt to wear (she was a fashion major, she'd told him on their way towards the large field where a group of her friends were at, working on some kind of assignment together. He'd told her his major was law). He loved how authentic she was, that care-free, no-bullshit personality shining through. Shiloh was instantly hooked. "All this over a man. Come on, show me a picture of the guy or something."Shiloh shakes his head, giggling just a little. He's uncharacteristically cheery when drunk. But, despite his inebriation, he knows that he'd kept a deal with his professor not to utter a peep about this to anyone. And, sadly, Julie falls under that umbrella of 'anyone'. "Nooo... can't..""Is he hot at least?" Julie asks as she chuckles at Shiloh's drunken actions, reaching out to push some of his silvery-blond hair out of his eyes. He's always a mess when he's buzzed, but she doesn't mind that. Shiloh knows she acts tough on the outside, but is internally a pretty caring person. "Mm... soo hot. Sooo, sooooo hottt, Juuulieee!""Oh, now you've got to show me! Just one peek? I won't tell a soul, I promise!""... No. You'll... kill meee if youu find out what I did."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
People don't change overnight. Shiloh, of all people, definitely doesn't. Especially after a night like that. Lawrence had politely offered that Shiloh stay in one of his guest rooms; he could lock himself in his own bedroom, and he wouldn't dare come out if that made the younger uncomfortable. Shiloh refused, said he needed to get home to Summer. Lawrence understood, Lawrence obliged. Since it was already dark out, he'd offered to drive him home. Again, Shiloh gave out the same practiced response. No, he's fine on his own. No, he doesn't need to be dropped off, and no, well, actually, yes, he'd like it if Lawrence paid for his cab. He would've refused, but Shiloh wouldn't mind it, if he's being honest. Maybe it was the nostalgia spurring him on, but Shiloh did allow Lawrence to kiss him just once before he got into the cab, too. Shiloh wished he had actually drank some of the wine at the restaurant earlier that day, because then it'd give him an excuse to write off his actions. But he wasn't drunk in the slightest. He'd let Lawrence lean in and press his lips to his forehead just.. just because. It could be the concern that the older man showed. He hasn't got that in quite a while. Shiloh knows he doesn't deserve it; not after all that he's done. But it warmed his heart when Lawrence had requested that Shiloh send him a text as soon as he got back home to let him know that he was safe. From his forehead, his gaze trailed down to his lips. Lawrence had paused, the courteous man, looking into Shiloh's eyes with his own foxy ones; he'd interpreted it as the older asking for permission. And, well, Shiloh doesn't know, okay? He fell right into his old habits and willingly leant in to lock their lips together. It was only when the cab driver had honked from the vehicle that Shiloh pulled away without even a glance at the man he'd just been making out with. He ran with quick steps from the front porch and right into the backseat of the car, yelling out a small 'bye!' before he'd been driven off back to his (compared to Lawrence's house) shitty apartment complex. He'd been up all night, mentally chiding himself for behaving so stupidly. And he didn't send Lawrence that text that he'd asked for, either. Instead, Shiloh acted rash again and gave him something else entirely. He blocked the new number as soon as he woke up this morning. After all, they'd had their 'talk' and Lawrence knew all that needed to be known. There was no reason for them to be in contact again. It was the right thing to do. Shiloh's always found comfort in running away from his actions. "Yeah, I mean, I guess I couldn't avoid him forever. I'm just glad I got it over with," Shiloh speaks into his phone currently pressed between his left shoulder and his ear. As groggy and sleep-deprived as he may be at the moment, he's got to feed Summer breakfast. Going grocery shopping yesterday after his lecture definitely came into handy, because there's no fuss over what his daughter wants and doesn't want on her plate this morning. She'd made her choice the moment they were in the candy isle, and she'd laid it out to be explicitly clear: 'Dada, I want chocolate-chip pancakes and lots and lots and looots of whipped cream for breakfast tomorrow'. So, Shiloh's been hard at work at the stove, doing his best to flip the pancakes while still on a call with Julie. The broken, messed up ones, he reserves for himself while the clean, circular-shaped ones he plates up for Summer on her Disney Princess themed plate. "Gross. You probably know about this shit more than I do, but couldn't you just, I dunno, get a restraining order on him or something?"Now, here's a fun little lie Shiloh's told Julie: that Lawrence is some mean-looking, forty-something-year-old man that he used to meet up with at a bar near the mall and sleep with every now and then. His name isn't Lawrence, in Shiloh's narration, either. It's Fred. Shiloh doesn't know why he did it. It felt like the right thing to do at the time, to just lie and tell Julie he got pregnant by some completely random man; and not his professor. It's the same thing he'd went with when breaking the news to his parents and his sister. That this man he occasionally got with had pounced on him during one of his ruts, drunk out of his mind (because they only meet up at that one specific bar, duh) and knocked him up. The lie, unfortunately for Shiloh, ended up snowballing. Initially, he'd planned on giving them a little shock before terminating the pregnancy. That... didn't exactly go as he'd expected it to. So, Shiloh just decided to stick with it. Does he want to get a restraining order against Lawrence, though? Shiloh doesn't hate him that much. "I could. Would rather not, though. I mean, you'd have to go to court for that and everything, and I'm kinda busy as is." A hand tugging at his shorts draws Shiloh's attention away from both the pancakes and the phone call. Summer's up. "Dada, who you talking to?" "Just Julie, pumpk-" Shiloh pauses, then corrects himself as he recalls Lawrence's words from yesterday. "- Summer."She nods and remains standing where she is, peering up at the stove and the counter, trying to catch a glimpse of what's cooking. Shiloh notices, and he ends up picking her up with his free arm right after turning the heat off. "But it'd be good riddance. No surprise visits to the place you work at like yesterday." Another lie that Shiloh had told Julie was that 'Fred' came over to 012 out of the blue yesterday and demanded that they have a chat about Summer. It's technically half the truth. That's why he was out so late, that's why he needed Julie to stay over and accompany Summer for a few hours more than what he'd promised. "Besides, what kind of creep stalks you, finds out where you work, and then confronts you out of nowhere?"Shiloh winces a little. Julie definitely sounds pissed at 'Fred', and rightfully so. He can't help but feel a little bad for dragging the lie out like this. He knows he started it because he didn't want to be seen as some airheaded guy who let his professor get him pregnant, but it's getting harder and harder for him to carry on with this abomination of a story he's forged. "Well, maybe that's not it. Maybe he just wanted to see how we were doing. He's..." Shiloh looks down at Summer in his arms, who's happily reaching out for one of the pancakes laid out on her plate, picking apart all the chocolate chips from it as she munches down on them. ".. he's her f-a-t-h-e-r, after all. What if he wanted to check up on us?"Shiloh deliberately spells the word 'father' out as quick as he can. Summer understands 'd-a-d' and 'd-a-d-a', even 'p-a-p-a', but if he says 'f-a-t-h-e-r' fast enough, maybe it'll zoom right past her and she won't grasp onto it. "The fucker didn't seem to want to 'check up' on you before all of this," comes Julie's voice from Shiloh's phone, her tone all judgmental and a little pissed. Shiloh knows she's only looking out for him. And he appreciates that. But he can't help the feeling of guilt eating away at him from the inside. He's not trying to defend Lawrence. However, the distant expression the older man had on his face last night when doing the dishes pops up in Shiloh's mind, and he feels terrible for all the undeserved words Julie's dishing out at him right now. It dawns upon Shiloh that he never really gave Lawrence a single chance to reach out to him. If he hadn't blocked the man as soon as he did back then, where would he be right now? In Lawrence's home, with Summer playing in that large backyard of his?It's a nice thought to imagine, but it all sours as soon as Shiloh tells himself that he's not allowed to indulge himself in that. He cut Lawrence off for good, and he can't just pretend like the last few years didn't happen. God knows how miserable he was. But... maybe he wouldn't have had to be if he was honest with Lawrence from the beginning.Shiloh quickly shakes the thought out of his mind. One interaction with that damn alpha, and he feels himself regressing back to the old Shiloh; the version of himself that he'd rather keep buried away. He can't grow soft for that face again. There's no going back now. It's all a one-way path ahead; a punishing one. "Drop it. Let's just.. drop this topic, Julie. I'm in the middle of making breakfast for Summer, and I'd like it if we talked about something else.""Yeah, sure," her tone returns back to normal, a far cry from the mean hiss directed at 'Fred' just a second ago. She begins to croon, "What's my little angel doing right now?""Actually, I'm thinking we stop calling her 'pumpkin' and 'angel', because it turns out she's been going around telling people that her name is either one of the two," Shiloh mumbles, furrowing his brows. He actually finds it a little adorable that Summer told Lawrence her name was 'pumpkin'. But he needs to fix the habit, regardless. "Oh, gotcha. So just Summer for now?""Just Summer for now. And she's currently ripping the pancakes I made for her into shreds; turns out she just wanted chocolate chips, not chocolate chip pancakes." Shiloh sets Summer down on the counter while he speaks, letting her dangle her feet from where she's seated. He hands her the phone to allow for her to speak to Julie on her own, though not before wiping her chocolate and pancake crumb covered hands with a napkin. The two go on about something while Shiloh cleans up her mess and also attempts at making his own plate of breakfast look a little more appetizing. ✩°Lawrence should've expected this. He'd seen it coming, and he can't say he didn't put it past Shiloh to pull off a stunt like this again. But he just doesn't get what the younger's deal is. Sure, what he did was terrible. Lawrence acknowledges that. According to Shiloh, he'd done something extremely careless during one of his ruts. Lawrence does tend to get a little more dominant and pushy during such times. It's in his nature — which is not an excuse, definitely not.And Lawrence certainly wants to make up for it. He doesn't understand in what way Shiloh must perceive him right now, but he's not a heartless monster. Has he ever done anything to rub the younger the wrong way? He's never seen someone act so utterly cautious and on-guard around him. Lawrence has interacted with countless people before; his own family, his students, other teachers and faculty members at the university. Not a single soul does he have bad blood with. He's a pretty fun person to be around, he's been told by many. Lawrence definitely tries to make sure he's always good company. Shiloh isn't acting like the Shiloh Lawrence knows. Instead of scanning the menu for the most expensive thing he could find to order and make a dent in Lawrence's bank account, Shiloh had shrunk into himself and flipped through the pages a few times, counting on his fingers and shaking his head as he reconsidered what to order for the umpteenth time before finally settling on a salad. Then, he'd given an excuse about a diet and played with the food on his plate. It could've been true if Lawrence wasn't aware of the fact that Shiloh had stated numerous times in the past that he could never actually follow a diet even if his life depended on it. He'd looked appalled when Lawrence had paid for the check without question — like that wasn't the norm in the past. Lawrence had hoped things mended themselves after that kiss on his front porch. In his defense, Shiloh had practically clung to him for dear life, tugging on Lawrence's hair and not pulling away, not even for air, while they made out. It seemed that Shiloh genuinely wanted him in that moment. And, if not for the honk of the cab, Lawrence knows that Shiloh would've dragged him back inside for a quick round or two. The past Shiloh would have, anyway. He can't say for certain that this Shiloh would've done so; yet he did feel the tension in the air. To his surprise, when he'd called Shiloh this morning, it'd rung once and then gone straight to voicemail. He'd been blocked, again. That had, quite honestly, made Lawrence chuckle just a little in the moment. The reason for his amusement was simply because Shiloh had called Lawrence last night, a little sleepy and very... whiny, so to say. With a yawn between every few sentences (Lawrence can only assume he must've been half-asleep and unaware), the younger ranted on and on about his laundry basket being so full and how he had no good outfits anymore. A glimpse of the old Shiloh that was worth the number change — even if he's back to being blocked again. Once again, Lawrence tells himself that he should've expected this. It was bound to happen. If Shiloh wants to push him away to such an extent, then he'll let him. He's done moderately fine dealing with the younger's absence these past years, and he'll just... continue to do so. He can't always have what he wants. He wants Summer; he wants to hold his daughter and make her laugh and take her to fun places and keep her close, but Lawrence supposes that's something he'll never get. He can't be selfish. Shiloh clearly wants for there to be distance between them, and he'll have to respect that."Hello! You again!"Perhaps that's not what fate wants, though. Lawrence lifts his face from his phone, placing his cup of coffee back down on its saucer. The voice sounds familiar, and when he meets its source, he can't hold back the smile that finds its way onto his face. Summer, Summer, Summer. He's never liked that season; Lawrence doesn't deal with hot weather too well. This Summer is different. He adores this Summer. He pulls a chair out for her, but Lawrence decides to play around a little; act dumb. He's allowed to do that, right? In a father-daughter way? "I'm sorry, but have we met before?" Lawrence can't possibly hide his grin as he speaks. This moment feels like it exists solely to make up for all the time he'd been left in the dark about his precious little girl. He watches as Summer sits up on the chair, watches as she leans back against it and sets her little hands down on the side rails. She's just too perfect. "Mhmm! We're friends, rember? We got the same hair! Your name... Lawwens!""We do, don't we? I remember now. We met yesterday," Lawrence chuckles, sliding the plate of the muffin he'd ordered earlier to Summer. He hasn't taken a bite out of it yet, fortunately, so it's all hers. He's surprised to see her munch down on it without question; Shiloh really needs to reinforce the concept of 'stranger danger' onto her better. Now, Lawrence means no harm, but if it were someone else giving her that, there's no telling what their intentions could be. She makes a face, scrunches her little nose up, and sets the muffin down on the plate again. Lawrence, with a raised brow, is just about to ask her what's wrong when she answers the unspoken question on her own. "Don't like nuts. Sorry." "Don't be. You don't have to eat if you don't want to." He pushes the plate aside, handing her a napkin to spit the contents of her mouth into. She does exactly that. "Is there something that you'd like to have? Whatever you want." Lawrence nods towards the menu-presenting screen above the counter of the small café. He doesn't usually enter the on-campus eateries, but this new change of schedules has given him plenty of free hours to spare. Why not pass the time with a cup of coffee? It doesn't hurt. Lawrence finds that the caffeine actually gives him quite a boost in energy; not that he's a lethargic man. But then Lawrence realizes, as he catches sight of Summer squinting her eyes at the words on the screen and tilting her head, that she probably can't read all of those terms — let alone understand them. He clears his throat. "Is there anything you really want to eat right now?" He rephrases, hoping that'll appeal to her more than his initial offer. He's never had a daughter before. Lawrence wants to do this right. Call him selfish, but he's going to do the most he can before Shiloh reappears and tears Summer away from him. Just... let him have this one thing. It's been driving him crazy ever since he first saw her.Summer looks around, her eyes wide and eager. She can have anything she wants to eat? Well, then, she isn't going to let this opportunity go! Her gaze lands on two students at a table nearby; more specifically, on a drink that one of them is clutching in their hand. Summer doesn't know what it is. She knows that she wants it, though. "That! The orange one with lotsa leaves!"Lawrence follows her gaze (oh, he just adores how much she looks like a little replica of him), and he smiles once he sees it. He holds nothing but love in his heart for Summer.✩°A quarter of a glass of peach iced tea (the orange thing with leaves she'd seen) and five bites of watermelon sorbet later, Summer's warmed up to Lawrence in a manner that, to an outsider, would look like they've known each other for the entirety of her little life. She's very different from Shiloh when it comes to her personality, and that's very intriguing to Lawrence. He'd expected her to be reserved and quiet, but instead finds her to be quite lively. It's endearing.
"You not like my dada. Dada say I can have one thing only."
Lawrence chuckles at that. There's one thing that makes Summer and Shiloh alike: his urge to spoil them to their hearts' content.
"When you're with me, you can have as many things as you want."
"Woahh... I wanna stay with you, not dada."Come to think of it..."Where is your dada?" He asks, now a little concerned. It's been quite a while that Summer's been with him, and yet Shiloh is nowhere in sight. Shouldn't he be looking around for her?
She's too composed. It makes Lawrence think that maybe she hasn't wandered off too far from him. "Dada over there." He turns behind him to a nearby table. Once again, Lawrence is brought to a smile at the sight. This one, though, is a bit melancholic; bittersweet. Buried in a heap of books, cheek pressed against the messy café table. He looks adorable, almost a little too much so. It's hard for people to immediately tell that Shiloh's an omega — and Lawrence will admit, he'd initially thought Shiloh was a beta, too — but in this moment, as he's resting, eyes-closed and completely vulnerable, he does look vaguely... delectable. He mustn't have gotten enough sleep. Those piling assignments around him only add to the weight on the younger's shoulders. Lawrence can only imagine how hard it must be for Shiloh to handle all of this. He wants to step in. He wants to reach out. Shiloh isn't just 'some student' to Lawrence; he hasn't been for a while. He's much more than that. He doesn't know if the omega even likes him anymore, but Shiloh was never just some fleeting fling to Lawrence. Somewhere in between those offers the younger would make to help his professor 'relieve some stress' in the past, Lawrence may have ended up letting his heart get too involved in the process. Initially, he'd thought of it as nothing but lust. A younger omega under him any time he pleased, his scent so sweet, his moans and whines ear-candy. He was pretty, he let Lawrence take the lead. It was a nice reprieve after a stressful day — and the alpha would always feel satisfied (both body and mind) at the sight of Shiloh blissed-out and trembling after he was done with him. Then, it slowly morphed into something more. Lawrence would crave Shiloh more times in a day than he could count. In a bathroom stall between lectures, over phone calls at night. He hated himself for it; hated that he'd let himself be seduced by someone he wasn't even supposed to find attractive if you looked at it from a moral standpoint. Until one afternoon spent watching a movie together in his living room (the one time Shiloh hadn't dragged him to some bizarrely pricey place) did Lawrence realize what he was really after. It wasn't lust, rather a sort of desire that almost frightened him. An urge; one to be close to Shiloh in a way no one else had ever been before. Has he gotten that? Almost four years later, and maybe Lawrence can allow himself to answer that now. He has; he's gotten that and so much more. Shiloh isn't just Shiloh anymore. He's given him a child — one so easy to love.