Chapter Text
The days are getting colder. Alice will have to find a new coat soon—the one she’s wearing now is tragically old, covered in patches and stains, and it will not likely last her through another winter.
She hums and trudges slowly up the stairs toward her apartment, mentally adding up her tips from the night to see if she’ll have enough spare cash to browse the winter section of her favorite thrift store. If she’s lucky, maybe she’ll find something to match the pink wooly gloves and hat she found there last time.
Alice hates working double shifts at the diner—her manager gives her the creeps, her clothes always smell like bacon grease, and if she misses the last bus, she has to walk two miles home in the dark.
But she needs the money.
Alice likes this city; her suppressants haven’t failed her yet, and it’s been a long time since she could afford a place as nice as this. Things like hot water and a running thermostat are not often attainable luxuries to a solitary omega, but she has them here, and the landlord let her move in on short notice without asking many questions. Besides that, there’s a small grocery store within walking distance, and a smattering of other small shops that she enjoys exploring on her days off.
There’s a little bit of salmon in the fridge from dinner the other night and Alice’s mouth is already watering thinking about how she’ll cook it. Slowly, with a lot of butter, and some lemon squeezed on top. It’s the same way her mother taught her to make it on her tenth birthday, before she presented, before her normal childhood twisted into something out of a nightmare.
Alice doesn’t think of her mother much, not anymore, and only thinks of her father when she has to, in those moments that bring him to the front of her mind. Like the day after she moved in here and broke a glass plate on the floor and stood frozen in place for several minutes, shoulders hunched inward, eyes squeezed tightly shut in anticipation of a swift and terrible punishment.
Although it’s been years since she left home, she can’t seem to shake those habits.
So Alice doesn’t miss home, not really, but she misses that rare feeling of warmth, of being cocooned tenderly by someone who cared for her deeply. The only thing she doesn’t have here yet is a friend. Alice has been the only tenant on this floor for months—her last neighbor was a crotchety old beta, and he moved away to live with his daughter when he fell and broke his hip over the summer. He wasn’t very talkative or even kind to her, but Alice doesn’t like how quiet the floor has become in his absence. It would be nice to befriend a fellow omega, or another beta—someone who won’t care what her designation is and won’t ask questions. Someone she can feel safe around.
Alice likes a few of her coworkers well enough, but she can’t afford to go out for drinks, and is always so busy trying to earn tips that she struggles to connect with them beyond the surface-level. One of the hosts, Katie, is always asking her out for a coffee. Alice thinks she seems nice, and maybe she’ll say yes next time. One coffee couldn’t hurt, right?
Alice is lost in thought, almost to the door of her apartment when she stumbles over a pile of boxes.
“Hm?” she jolts in surprise, and then looks closer. One of the boxes says ‘kitchen—fragile.’ Another says ‘books.’ There’s a large reclining chair perched beside the door, and what looks like a disassembled dining table.
Alice’s heart freezes.
Someone must have just moved into the empty unit beside hers. Now that she’s paying more attention, Alice can faintly hear someone moving some kind of heavy furniture inside, and there’s soft, funky music filtering through the wall. Some kind of dangerously sweet, warm scent is tickling her nose and making her pulse quicken.
Alpha.
Alice blanches. She hurries into her own apartment and locks the door, hands shaking. She hangs up her jacket, gets started on dinner, and tries to ignore the obvious continued sounds of someone unpacking boxes and moving furniture around right next door. After a few minutes she can even pick up the low timbre of a male voice and her stomach clenches with apprehension.
She’s no stranger to living in proximity to alphas—her father, for one, and a number of others throughout her life. Alice knows how they can react to an omega, an unclaimed one at that, and she’s learned to stay out of their way as much as possible. So it’s not ideal to have one living right next door, but she can’t run away. Not again. She needs this apartment, and she needs this job.
Alice will just have to find a way to deal with it.
***
The following days and weeks pass slowly, with Alice painstakingly avoiding her new next-door neighbor at all costs.
She gets a sense of his schedule from when she can and can’t hear him through the walls, and tries her best to stay off his radar. Some nights she can hear him watching a movie; others, she hears soft music playing and can smell exactly what he’s cooking for dinner.
Alice often catches herself leaning against their shared wall, her ears straining, trying to catch bits and pieces of his phone conversations.
She wonders who he’s talking to.
He’s not on suppressants. Alice knows this because she picks up his scent everywhere, in the hall, on the stairwell, lingering on the sidewalk outside—even in her own apartment at times, filtered through the air vents. His scent is soft and warm, and tastes like honey on her tongue, and sometimes when she’s still half-asleep in the morning she breathes in deeply and lets the scent sear through her lungs and warm her from head to toe.
Alice can only hope that her suppressants work, and that her scent does not linger in the same way for him.
***
One day after a midday shift at the diner, Alice finds the perfect addition to her sparsely-decorated living room: a small, cozy armchair, with a soft floral fabric and a nice wooden frame. It’s not too heavy and she carefully takes it home with her, carrying it with both arms and slowly walking the last few blocks home from the thrift store.
Her cheeks blush with the cold and she can sense the crisp feeling in the air of a rainstorm coming. When she gets to her apartment building Alice drags the chair into the only elevator, her shoulders and back starting to burn from exertion. She presses the button for her floor, watching the elevator doors slowly sliding shut until—a hand shoves between them.
A thick, tan, corded-with-muscles-hand. Alice stiffens.
“Hope there’s room for one more,” she hears a familiar voice say, sounding sheepish. A man steps into the elevator then, grinning at Alice.
She knows him by his scent alone—the alpha she’s been working so hard to avoid.
Alice frowns upon seeing the man in person for the first time, her heart pounding nervously. This is why she usually takes the stairs. If she gets too close, if he pays enough attention… she doesn’t want to think about what will happen next.
“Hey,” he says once the elevator doors have closed again, effectively sealing them alone together in the small space. He reaches out and presses the same button that she had pressed a moment ago for the top floor. “I just moved into the building a few weeks ago—I’m Nick. What’s your name?” He smiles, holding his palm out in an attempt for a friendly handshake.
Alice squeezes her arms tighter around the armchair in front of her, feeling wildly exposed.
“Alice,” she says tersely after a few moments. Nick’s smile fades slightly at her standoffish response.
“Okay—Alice!” He repeats her name to himself. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. Need a hand with that?” He gestures to the armchair and Alice frowns.
“No,” she says. “I’m fine.”
The elevator finally dings and the doors slide open on their floor. Alice waits for Nick to exit before coming out, dragging the chair sluggishly behind her. She tries to keep her movements and breaths muted, hoping that her suppressants are doing their job and that he hasn’t picked up on her true omega scent.
This is just my luck, she thinks despairingly. Continuing to haul the chair down the hallway to her door, she glances up and spots Nick standing outside his door, watching her, one eyebrow cocked in gentle amusement.
“You’re sure you don’t need any help?”
“No thank you,” Alice huffs out, annoyed, shoving the chair the last few steps to her doorway. She fumbles hurriedly for her keys.
“Oh, wait,” Nick says, realization dawning on his face. “So you’re my next-door neighbor, huh?”
“Looks that way,” Alice says tightly, avoiding his gaze and quickly shoving her keys into the doorknob. When the door finally unlocks she drags the armchair inside, closing the door behind her unceremoniously. She sinks heavily into her new chair, putting her head in her hands and letting out a deep sigh. The warm, familiar scent of her apartment surrounds her and she takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves.
“So much for avoiding him,” she mutters to herself.
***
On the other side of the door, Nick waits for a few moments, blinking in shock at the woman’s brusque dismissal.
“Huh,” he says quietly, with a hint of a puzzled smile. Then with a shrug, he walks to his door and lets himself into his own apartment.
***
After the encounter in the elevator, Alice doubles up on her suppressants just to be safe. She continues to avoid Nick as much as possible, but more and more often finds herself running into him all over the building—in the hallway, the laundry facilities, and the elevator. Each time he sees her he greets her warmly, asking about her day and initiating small talk. Alice tries to keep her distance with short responses, and always has an excuse prepared to get out of the conversation.
Nick doesn’t give up, and although he clearly senses her discomfort and is careful to not push her clear boundaries, he can’t help but continue trying to get her to open up.
One day there is a knock on Alice’s door and she freezes in the middle of warming up some leftovers from work. She walks on her tiptoes carefully and silently over to the door, peering through the peephole, pulse racing.
No one’s knocked on her door before.
When she spots Nick standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, rocking back and forth casually on the balls of his feet, she snorts in frustration. She deliberates for a moment and then opens the door a crack, frowning out at him.
“Can I help you?”
Nick grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry to bother you,” he says. “I was just making cookies and realized I’m short on eggs… I don’t suppose you have a couple extra?” He smiles hopefully at her.
Alice scowls. She debates slamming the door on his face, but then she sighs. It wouldn’t be a good idea to get on his bad side, anyway. And she can spare a few eggs. “Just a sec,” she finally says, closing the door and locking it before scurrying over to her kitchen. She takes two eggs from her fridge and returns back to her door, unlocking it, and then opening it slightly again, just enough to see Nick’s hopeful face peering back at her. She drops the eggs into his waiting hands.
“Thank god. I owe you one,” he says gratefully, smiling widely at her.
Alice frowns again, her brow furrowing. “No… it’s alright,” she says. “Don’t worry about it.” She doesn’t want him to owe her anything. She doesn’t want him to keep coming around her apartment, asking for things and smiling in that gentle way that makes his eyes go soft. She smiles tersely at Nick, ignoring his slightly crestfallen expression and then closes her door before he can say anything else, locking it securely and getting back to her leftovers.
“Why won’t he just leave me alone?” Alice grumbles to herself, rubbing her arms, trying to get rid of her goosebumps. She can smell his scent wafting through her apartment and she shivers, opening the window and hoping it won’t linger.
The next morning, she steps out into the hallway and almost treads right on top of a small plate of chocolate chip cookies. Alice bends down cautiously and picks up the plate, inspecting the cookies and spying a small hastily hand-written note.
Thanks again. I made too many to keep them all to myself, so I hope you like chocolate.
-Nick
Alice grits her teeth, glaring at the cookies. There’s no way I’m touching those. She marches over to Nick’s door, depositing the plate onto his welcome mat. She crumples the note in her hand and is about to throw it away but she hesitates for a moment and then shoves it in her pocket instead.