Chapter 61: Elias’s Communication

Elias’s POV

"Did you see the way that snobby little prick looked?" Damien asks.

My older brother has been laughing since he started driving.

A maniac. His sleeves are rolled up in an effortless look, and his hair is messed up; always the fashionista.

There are still splatters of blood on his face but somehow, he feels the most sane person in our mad circle.

Kai is complaining about losing rank in his video game at home. He wants us to return to Gotteigen or else he’ll order a machine gun and start a war.

Lucas is sitting at the back with my husband and I.

My eyes are sharply mapping out everyone and everything, but my head is turned towards the silent angel next to me.

The blonde man is like a statue again. His blue eyes are fixed on nothing. And I hate the way he feels as if the cracks I made on him are closing up.

Noah hasn’t said a word since we left that place. His silence is getting under my skin. He knows I hate a lack of response.

When I turn my crystals to a certain angle, they reflect light. When I tune my watch, the arrows move. When I look at him, he should look at me too.

Did I press his neck too hard?

Is he still having that goddamn stomachache again?

He moves his wrist once and my eyes zero in on the place where I had my belt last night. The place where I had him bared and surrendered under me.

The redness is no longer there, and it offends me.

I want to put the belt around his wrists again, kiss him, and scent him till he stops acting like this.

"Ow" Noah gasps under his breath as the car jostles.

He’s hurting.

Damien, always the reckless driver, bumps into another pothole and Noah winces but immediately fixes his expression.

"Drive carefully" I snap at Damien and he turns his head to glare at me.

"Woah!" Kai yells, grabbing the wheel to steady the car.

"Speak to me carefully, pocket watch" Damien snarls and turns his attention back to focus on the road.

We almost had an accident. We don’t care, but Noah’s pink lips are pressed together.

He’s uncomfortable.

"Can we do what we did yesterday?" Lucas asks and I notice the way Noah peers at him with curiosity.

He wants to go.

"Damien? Drive us to the breakfast place" I say and Damien curses me out under his breath, but he does just that.

We repeat every single excruciating thing we did yesterday.

Eat unhealthy food. Take meaningless walks. Watch innocent people. But no matter what we do, Noah doesn’t crack a smile. Not even a fake one.

Lucas does stupid things to make him laugh; but it’s clear that the omega has retreated into his shell.

Soon evening comes and we return to our hotels.

Like yesterday, I give him the chance to go to his room or come into mine. And knowing him, I’m sure he’ll stay.

He doesn’t.

Noah goes into his own hotel room after muttering a pitiful; "goodnight, Elias."

Something is wrong with him.

That omega invaded my space yesterday. He forced himself into my lap and made himself at home with me. I must have broken him.

I return to my own room. Take off my clothes. Wash off the sweat of the day. And then I call my mother.

"Hello, precious" mom says after accepting the call.

"I think I broke him" I go straight to the point, and I hear my father’s amuse snort in the background.

"Is it Noah?" mom asks, and the noise of him moving around comes through the phone, "stay there, Darius" he says.

"He’s my son too" dad’s voice responds and I can imagine him trying to hug my mother from behind.

Will I ever know love and affection like my parents? Their love isn’t normal, it’s wrong and obsessive, but it’s real.

"Stay" mom orders coldly and I drop my head against the leather seat.

The one Noah dared to rob me of last night.

"Are you still with me, precious?" mom asks.

"Yes" I whisper and clear my throat.

"Why did you think you broke him?" mom asks softly, and I stare at the ceiling before listing everything I observed about the omega today.

"He didn’t crack a smile. He kept wincing. And he felt like the first time I brought him home" I say and mom sighs.

"Did you ask him why he was like that?"

"Ask?" I repeat the odd word.

I never ask questions. I observe, I deduce, and I decide.

"There is something called communication, you can try it once in a while" mom says and dad’s snicker reaches my ear.

Is mom...clowning me?

"Just ask the boy what’s wrong with him and see how you can help" he continues to talk and I nod.

I don’t know how to communicate. That ability was stolen from me by that man.

Hell...I don’t want to think of that man.

"Are you with me, pup?" mom asks and I nod.

"Yes, I’m with you" I respond, shutting my eyes to delete the imagery of that man.

"Just ask, okay? and I’m sure Noah is brilliant enough to communicate his feelings" he says.

"Thank you, mother. Have a goodnight" I say.

"Your dad sends his love" he says and ends the call before dad would say something off topic.

Communicate.

Communicate?

"I just have to communicate" I tell myself as I walk out of my room and head to Noah’s room.

Two knocks on the door is enough to get his attention.

My husband opens the door and out of habit, my eyes scan him. The omega’s eyes are red-rimmed and his nose pink.

"Are you crying?" I ask and he wipes his nose with the back of his arm, looking at me with teary eyes.

He looks exactly like that cherry boy.

"No" Noah lies.

"Why aren’t you asleep?" I ask and he looks back at the bed. He seems to have been lying down before I came in.

Communicate.

I grab his arm and drag him to the bed. What am I supposed to say?

I gesture for him to lay on the bed and he does. Noah lies on one side, and I lie on the other.

We are lying on our sides and facing each other. I have never felt more stiff in my life.

"If I wasn’t perfect, would you have taken me from my home?" he asks and I frown.

Perfect?

"Define perfect" I say and his sad eyes soften.

"Good question. Can you cuddle me?" he asks and I nod, moving forward and wrapping my arm around him.

"Did I upset you?" I ask.

"No...you calm me" he murmurs and my heart stops briefly before resuming in an irregular pattern.

Did my cold heart just...flutter?