Elijah

Elijah never minded living alone—at least, that’s what he told himself. He liked his space, his quiet, his routines. But lately, the silence of his apartment had started to feel a little too heavy, creeping in at odd hours, making the place feel less like a home and more like an empty shell.

Or, more practically, his landlord decided for him. A rent increase meant he either needed to find a roommate or pack up and move somewhere less ideal. He wasn’t quite ready to leave—he liked this place, with its big windows and cozy reading nook. So, he put out an ad: Looking for a roommate. Must be clean, respectful, and okay with an omega housemate. Simple. Direct.

He figured another omega would probably respond. That seemed like the safest, easiest option. They’d understand each other’s routines, be mindful of boundaries, and, most importantly, there wouldn’t be the looming awkwardness of an alpha-omega dynamic or the unpredictability of a beta’s attitude toward it all.

Still, as he sipped his coffee and scrolled through the first few replies, he wondered if he was overthinking it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to live with a beta. Maybe even an alpha—though that thought made his stomach twist with uncertainty.

Would an alpha even want to live with an omega roommate?

He set his phone down and exhaled, shaking off the train of thought. The first interviewee would be here soon. Maybe they’d be exactly what he expected. Or maybe this was about to get interesting.