Chapter Text
Seible has been lying in his bed, clearly finding troubled to fall asleep right now.
There are days when he feels happy, being open to everyone who enjoys their opening nights and their performance, living in such contentment around his found family, By The Beat. And yet, there are also days when he feels so under the weather for no reason at all, making even the atmosphere in the livehouse much bitter and suffocating.
It's up to the point where Zeal told him to let himself rest and leave the rest to all of them, with them all looking at him full of care and concern, that Seible doesn't have the heart to decline such an offer. After all, he is ruining their overall performance for literally nothing at all, even Seible himself can explain his own odd action. He tries and tries to come up with anything, but nothing ever comes to mind, as what's left for him is just a blank space.
What should he even do right now?
Worse, he knows it isn't because of the ruts—No. His ruts are so far away, weeks from it, so there's no way it can be that. Maybe it's because of pre-rut, but that wouldn't make sense since he's been keeping track of taking pills and avoiding things that possibly trigger him as a whole.
So what is this?
What keeps him so alert right now?
Seible can't understand, no matter how hard he's been trying to. He keeps moving in his empty bed and his dark bedroom, looking at the light outside his room from the door crack barely opened, just enough to dimly light his room a bit better. Yet, it doesn't help him sort out what's been bothering his head and mind, or what's making him feel so on edge right this. Books and further knowledge about their second identity don't explain to them the reason he's been acting in such a way.
Heck, no one can find a proper explanation for it.
Not even Seible himself.
His head has been throbbing, and his body feels so heavy—too heavy and too on edge that it leaves him endless discomfort, eating him inside out. Everything just suddenly feels too much, too loud to ignore. It irritates him for such an unexplainable feeling swelling up inside, mentally driving him insane. His gums ached, and his mouth dryly bled from the frustrating bits he's been doing.
Everything just feels so overwhelming.
He doesn't know if he can go through it all alone.
And yet, he's also afraid of asking for help when he himself is unsure of the current scenario.
His ruts have never been this bad, not when he can still talk to everyone and function like a normal human being. But now, just by breathing is already too much, too restless to lie in bed and wrap himself in a dozen blankets. Cold sweat keeps pouring, and his eyes keep getting blurry as time goes by, driving him into such insanity that Seible doesn't know what to do but just accept it. It's so bad up to the point he isn't sure whether it's his pre-rut symptoms or not, or if it's something else he hasn't figured out yet.
Alas, he can just suffer through this without bothering anyone. Surely. Absolutely.
He would rather do that than bother anyone else, choosing to live in hell than drag someone down with him into such madness.
The lights are still turned on, meaning that the livehouse is still open and everyone is still doing their best with their work right now. There's no way he would ever let himself be a ruckus to their work; he's already ruining the night by acting unlike the usual bubbly Seible would do. He should let them do their job, letting the night go on and he can just go through this all alone.
Seible sighs as he closes his eyes slowly, trying and mentally praying to himself that he can get through it all by himself somehow. He can do this, he must do it by himself. He pulls the blanket closer and tighter, almost drowning himself in it as the sole comfort he can lean onto at such moment.
Or maybe.
Maybe he does need help, he just doesn't know how to ask or what to do in this situation, worrying himself might burden them more.
.
.
.
.
.
"Swablu? Have you fallen asleep yet?"
The soft, charming voice then quickly pulls Seible out of his restless mind. He tries his best to open his hazy eyes, glancing at the silhouette of someone he has been so used to seeing in their livehouse. He looks at the door open and the figure slowly makes his way to him, but then soon shuts his eyes again as he feels the migraines hitting him again and again.
"Furi-chan…"
He tries to bring his voice up a little bit, trying his best to ease the other person from worrying too much. Though he's sure that it's not working right now, especially at the sight of that same cheerful promoter lying on the bed with a pale face and drenched in cold sweat.
Just like he thought, the other only looks at him with such a soft gaze and wavered concern, clearly sensing it through his sour scent. The other's hand gently brushes through his brown locks of hair, ruffling through his wet hair drenched by a bucket of sweat. Seible leans onto it like a cat asking for attention, for something he has been wanting so badly at that moment.
But then he quickly realizes something as he pulls away, trying his very best, yet a desperate attempt to act as if nothing troubles him right now. Then, he quickly snuggles in much closer to the wrapped blanket, almost wanting to run away, and pretending in the most possible way he can.
"I'm fine, Furi-chan. I'm trying to fall asleep right now, and it will happen soon. Surely." Seible says through the bitter cackle, sensing his own oceanic pheromone betrays him here and there but still clinging onto it with all his might and will, trying his best to excuse himself out of misery.
Just because it doesn't want to worry Freo more.
Just because he refuses to let one in when he still hasn't figured it out just yet.
The other doesn't give him time to run away, avoiding what's been holding him back as a whole. Instead, Freo makes his way even closer than before, sitting by the very end of the bed as he hugs the other through the layers of blanket. Clearly, Seible doesn't expect this to happen, not when he tries to push the other away and he still chooses to say, nevertheless. It makes him feel…warm, the kind that Seible has loved to find himself lost in, especially when he's been needing it so badly for his restless body.
But then, his nose gets a small whiff, noticing there's another scent lingering and wraps around him like a soothing blanket. A rich aroma, like a freshly made cup of frappuccino on winter days, brings him the sole comfort where he needs the most. The kind of presence that isn't loud, but just enough for Seible to notice and to find himself lost inside.
Freo's pheromones.
The rich, savory scent of coffee now blends with his stinging scent, trying to soothe what's been worrying him as a whole.
Since when did his aroma come in? Seible can't even recall it. All that he knows is that Freo never lets his scent run wildly, out of control, like whenever he's around with the alphas. He only lets it out in very small amounts, all with precise caution and all with protection to protect himself behind the walls. Worse, at first, Seible thought Freo's pheromone didn't even exist since the other always knew how to keep track of his cycles all too well, leaving them bedazzled when they found out about this later on.
So why now?
Why at this moment, when Seible feels the most vulnerable, worrying about unknown things that might happen to the other when he chooses to stay longer?
Seible hiccups through the tears, feeling more than blessed to have someone willingly choose to spend his time around him like this, right when he feels more appreciated than anyone else, to be trusted by the omega. Freo just softly smiles as he gives Seible gentle pats through the blanket, letting his scent become the most lulling source for the other to finally take a rest in.
"I'm here, and I'll be here until you can finally fall asleep, as long as you want to." Freo just says almost as if it was the most obvious of all, sticking closer to the covered figure inside his bed like he means everything he says.
And truly, he does mean it.
"I'm sorry. And thank you, Furi-chan." Seible just laughs to his smile, clearly more than happy to receive the permission to what's been bothering his wrecked mind. He lets his one hand peek out from under the blanket, gently grabbing onto the other's sleeve as a way to show his own appreciation, letting himself be fulfilled by what's so comforting right now.
"Anytime, Swablu."
And Freo will always reciprocate it back no matter what, not even when the other is telling him to stop. He will always choose to be here, to be by the brunet's side and to give the comfort he always needs and wants. He will always be willing to give his all, even when the other doesn't ask him to, just because he cherishes Seible just as much as the other does.
The kind of action that does not need to be titled.
He just chooses it nonetheless.
The track of promise that needs no words to express it.
Track 0310.