Beta Complex-Chapter 64: He Still Has to Apologize.

A shadow passes over, blocking out the light. Ethan scrunches his eyelids as cold hands press into the crook of his arm. There’s a sharp pinch that makes him wince. He groans, goosebumps rising on his skin as a cool draft brushes past him. There’s a soft hum, and the beta blinks up at an unfamiliar ceiling. It’s painted black instead of the usual white, and it’s the first sign that he’s not where he’s supposed to be.

His gaze shifts, his neck stiff, and he finds a man hovering over him, his glasses hanging low on the bridge of his crooked nose as he peers down at him. He wears a white coat, a stethoscope around his neck, and a clipboard in his hands.

"You’re up." The man’s voice is soft in the quiet room as his monitor continues to beep beside him. This is not the same doctor as before. It’s the second sign.

"Ah," Ethan hisses as he tries to ease the numbness from his legs. "What happened to-" he trails off when he realizes that he’s actually no longer in his hospital room. Instead, it looks like a bedroom, with dark curtains pulled over the large ceiling to floor windows, blocking out any natural lighting. The comforter over him is heavy and warm, carrying the scent of fresh laundry detergent. Detergent that smells too familiar. There’s a lamp beside the table a few feet from him, along with a pitcher of water and a crystal glass.

"Where am I?" He asks, his voice cracking as he speaks. His throat is sore, and he awkwardly eyes the water.

The older man hums as he pulls a pen from his white coat pocket and jots down on his clipboard. "You’ll know soon enough." He says dismissively. He eyes Ethan up and down in distaste before tutting. "I’ve just given you some pain killers. It should help the ache in your neck and arm." He waves his pen halfheartedly at Ethan’s figure.

"Thanks?" Ethan murmurs back. The fingers on his uninjured arm twitches, the IV stuck in the crook of it is uncomfortable. He just wants to rip it off. A door clicks open and Ethan turns to look at who it is. Only his confusion continues to grow when he sees Zander.

The alpha wears a black and red checkered sweater, the sleeves pulled down to cover the heel of his palms. His black sweats look casual and almost out of place, mostly because Ethan has never seen Zander wear any. They look like they were bought from a second hand store, not anything like the designer clothing he always wears. His dark black hair is tousled, as if he’s ran his hands through it a few too many times, and dark circles are heavy under his green eyes.

He looks exhausted. As soon as they make eye contact, Ethan’s mind goes blank. Why does it feel like it’s been forever since he’s seen Zander’s glimmering emerald eyes?

"Have you finished?" The alpha doesn’t acknowledge him as he turns his gaze to the doctor, tucking his hands into his pockets. The older man nods, his steps light as he walks over to him. He pulls Zander aside, then speaks with the alpha in a hushed tone. All the while, Ethan can only stare. Stare at Zander and the way he crosses his arms over his chest. Stare at the way his shoulders tense, at the way he glances over his shoulder at him. Is Zander still mad at him?

Ethan bites his lower lip, as if that matters now. Even with his broken body, he still finds himself worrying about someone else. How did the alpha find out about him, anyway?

When the doctor leaves, Zander sighs and takes the arm chair across the room. He crosses one leg over the other, and lets out a heavy breath. He doesn’t look at Ethan, in fact he stares at anything but him. He eyes the painting on the wall beside him. Then shifts his gaze to the monitor that’s connected to the beta, the beeping picking up pace as Ethan’s nerves grow frantic.

He still has to apologize.

"What am I doing here?" Ethan croaks instead. He’ll do it later. After he gets some answers. He coughs, the jerky movements causing him pain and he winces. The leather arm chair creaks as Zander stands and walks over to the bedside table.

He doesn’t answer him right away as he pours Ethan a glass of water. When he passes it to the beta, a shiver goes down his spine as their fingers brush. Ethan struggles to swallow it down before the alpha offers him a metal straw. It’s a lot easier for him now.

"I had no other choice." Zander finally says, his deep voice quiet in the space between them. Ethan looks terrible, and every time he looks at him, a dark rage builds in his chest. How dare that lowly omega threaten Ethan’s life? How dare he be so selfish, when Zander doesn’t even dare himself. His jaw clenches and he swallows down the words that want to spill out.

It isn’t Ethan’s fault.

"What do you mean?" The beta asks. He passes the glass back and Zander takes it, careful not to slam it down onto the table.

Zander purses his lips, how much should he tell him? All of it? None of it? Would Ethan even believe him if he did? He didn’t hesitate to think the worst of him the last time, so what would make this time any different? The thought makes his chest ache.

"How about you get some more rest." He says instead, the dark edge to his voice still audible. Can Ethan hear it? Can he tell that Zander is barely hanging on by a thread? He should have gotten rid of Chris sooner. The moment he said what he said in the restaurant that day. Instead, Zander pouted like a baby all because Ethan said he didn’t want to see him anymore. How pathetic.

"I’m fine." Ethan croaks the words out. His mouth and throat feel better now that it’s been wet. His gaze flits around of what he can see of the room, and he pokes the inside of his cheek. "Why am I here? Is this your bedroom?"

"It is." Zander gives a soft smile. He takes a seat at the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He won’t admit how much he likes that Ethan is laying in his scent.