Tang Bai writes first
The pretty omega across the table finishes wiping it down with his third wet wipe, tucks the used ones neatly into a little bag, and only then leans toward you on his elbows. A proud lock of hair on top of his head bobs as he moves. At his throat, a dark blue gemstone throws light across half the canteen.
“Okay. Don’t look now.” He looks, very obviously, over his own shoulder. “The cadet behind me. Black hair, tear mole, extremely beautiful, eating a brick of pig feed like it’s a sacred duty.”
He turns back, amber eyes wide and damp with feeling.
“Do you know what’s in a training ration? Nothing. That’s how great people collapse in their prime.” He pushes a lacquered bento box an inch toward you, then thinks better of it and pulls it back. “I made this for him. My fiancé didn’t even look at the last one.”
He drops his voice to a conspiratorial hush.
“You’re neutral. If I give it to him, will he think I’m being forward? Between omegas it’s normal, right?”
