Fallen General's Omega (BL)-Chapter 41: Ache

I find Ben waiting by the carriage at the base of the hill. True to form, he stands silently, his presence as solid and stoic as ever. I tap him on the shoulder, catching his attention.

"Hey buddy, make sure to check on him periodically, okay? And keep an eye on Mona too," I instruct. He responds with a grunt, which, in Ben’s language, means an affirmative.

With that settled, I climb into the carriage and spot Roman, already seated inside. As I enter, he wrinkles his nose. "You reek of pheromones—definitely not the usual kind. These are distinctly... the sex ones."

"Well, that’s the price of being a newlywed," I say, closing my eyes and bracing myself for the long ride ahead. The exhaustion of the journey already feels palpable.

* freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Later, as the horses drink from a nearby stream, I engage in a sparring session with Roman. At first, my moves are a bit off; it takes me a few moments to find my rhythm. But soon enough, my battlefield instincts kick in, and I’m back to my usual self.

I shed my sweat-soaked shirt and wipe myself down. Roman gives me a smirk. "Your husband is quite the artist. He’s left his mark all over your back."

I can’t help but chuckle, recalling the sharp sting of his fingernails digging into my skin during our passionate moments. "You should see his body," I mention casually.

Roman’s eyes widen. "Was that a joke? You just made a joke?!"

"Actually, it’s a fact," I reply, a touch of longing in my voice as I think about my green-eyed beauty.

The distance between us and my beloved feels almost unbearable, and I miss Noelle’s presence more than I can express.

*

Noelle wakes up alone, and the bed feels unusually expansive today, a stark contrast to the intimate space it usually offers. He stretches his limbs, a pleasant ache rippling through his body as he moves. The absence of Thorne’s presence is palpable, leaving a noticeable void.

He goes through his morning routine mechanically, the familiar motions offering little comfort. As he goes about his tasks, he feels a sharp, lingering ache, particularly in his nipples. The memory of Thorne’s touch, still vivid in his mind, reminds him of the promise his lover made to ensure he would remember him with every step. It’s a delicious, if frustrating, reminder of their last encounter.

Reluctantly, Noelle tends to his plants, giving them the water they need. The act feels like a minor chore compared to the weight of his yearning. When he finally returns to the bed, it still holds the scent of Thorne. The pheromones are thick in the air, a reminder of the passion they shared.

Lying in the bed, Noelle reflects on the lazy mornings he used to share with Thorne. He reminisces about their playful moments, the way they’d spend hours wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in a world of their own. A deep sigh escapes him, a mixture of nostalgia and longing.

Grape, the plump bird, flutters over and settles beside Noelle’s head. He begins to pet the bird gently, finding solace in the simple act. "You miss him too, huh?" Noelle murmurs, his voice tinged with sadness. Grape responds by relaxing into his touch, as if understanding the unspoken emotions.

Noelle’s introspection reveals a new facet of himself—his own vulnerability and neediness. He hadn’t realized how deeply he relied on Thorne’s presence until it was gone. In this quiet moment, surrounded by the echoes of their shared passion, he confronts the truth about his own desires and dependence.

Noelle continues to stroke Grape’s feathers, finding a small measure of comfort in the bird’s soft, reassuring presence. The room is filled with a poignant silence, the kind that lingers after a profound and intimate connection. He gazes around, noticing the remnants of their shared moments—the disheveled sheets, the faint scent of Thorne still lingering in the air, and the subtle imprints of their passion.

The ache in his body reminds him of the intensity of their recent encounters. Each step, each movement, carries a whisper of Thorne’s touch, making the absence feel even more acute. Noelle’s thoughts drift back to their playful mornings, the way Thorne’s laughter would fill the room and his touch would bring warmth and comfort.

Grape coos softly, and Noelle smiles faintly. The bird seems to sense his melancholy and offers a quiet companionship. He strokes Grape’s plump body absently, his mind wandering to the moments when Thorne would lie beside him, the two of them entwined in a cocoon of warmth and affection. The memories are bittersweet, a mix of joy and longing that tugs at his heart.

After a while, Noelle reluctantly pushes himself out of bed, the effort of moving only amplifying his sense of Thorne’s absence. He goes to the window, pulling back the curtains to let in the morning light. The world outside is calm and serene, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions he’s experiencing.

He takes a deep breath, trying to center himself amidst the chaos of his thoughts. The peaceful landscape does little to soothe his inner turmoil, but it provides a moment of clarity. He knows he needs to prepare for the day, to face the reality of Thorne’s departure and the inevitable separation that looms.

Noelle starts to tidy up the room, his actions mechanical but purposeful. As he works, he tries to focus on the tasks at hand, hoping that keeping busy will help distract him from the gnawing emptiness inside. Despite his efforts, his mind frequently drifts back to Thorne and the life they shared.

Grape flutters to a nearby perch, watching Noelle with a curious gaze. The bird’s presence is a small comfort, a reminder that he’s not entirely alone. Noelle pauses for a moment, looking at the bird with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow.

Noelle eats his dinner in solitude, the quiet of the evening amplifying the emptiness he feels. Grape, perched on the table, provides some company as he pecks at crumbs that fall from Noelle’s plate. The bird’s presence is a small comfort, but it does little to fill the void left by Thorne’s absence.