Aisha Yanaka spent 20 years thinking she was a Beta- and while others would have wanted to be something different, Aisha was perfectly content with her secondary gender. Perhaps it was due to knowing that- if she was an Alpha- all her accomplishments and hard work would be attributed to her gender and not her determination, drive, and focus. 8 years past the age of puberty- when, what to Aisha is a stroke of bad karma- her secondary gender finally manifests as a recessive alpha; Aisha Yanaka's world shatters. The following is a story about identity, stereotypes, and that 'success' and 'powerful' don't always mean the same thing. (female alpha x male omega)View More
Though I knew the person was speaking, their words felt like they were echoing down a loud tunnel and were concluding together to make staticnoise. "...Wanted to be... first... you..." The words were blotted out by the hammering of my own heart muting the words- not that I needed to listen in order o know what my coworker was going to say. My mind was blanking as the words sifted through the speaker of my phone and tickled the cartilage in my ear; and as if my mind was a scratched CD, my thoughts were freezing and staggering from one sentiment to the next- all while my heart was steadily dropping itself to the floor. Is it just me, or does their voice sound slightly... bitter? Is it just me... Shaking my head, I refused to believe that something like that was already happening. L
After twenty minutes, the oven timer beeped telling me the food was done, and with it, I got out two plates from my cabinet before dishing us both dinner. The savory smell of the salmon must have wafted its way towards the bathroom, because not shortly after, I heard the click of the door. Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing my expressions, I turned to greet her with a welcoming attitude. My eyes violently bulged from my sockets before I coughed roughly, completely startled. Setting down the plates, I immediately rushed to my room to grab clothes, my face red as I blushed in embarrassment as I searchedfor a baggyshirt and pajama pants. Tipping my head out of my doorway, I calmed myself down as I saw her- no, him- sitting on the undirtied side of the couch with the towel wrapped around his waist. The heat gathering in my face felt cold aga
Despite seeming to be of small stature, she was rather heavy as I pulled her arm around my neck and struggled to get her to stand. Looping my left arm around her waist, I flinched as her head lolled onto my shoulder, her breathing slow and even as though she were sleeping. Left to carry her the few minutes left to my car, my mind began to spin elaborate stories about how she ended up like this- the most prevalent story being that she was abused by a shitty boyfriend and abandoned in the alley. And so, my mind continued spinning tales as I piled her into my car, retrieved my computer bag,drove home, and somehow got her into my condo. Balancing my weight on the front door, I lethargically dragged her to my couch before setting her down, exhausted. Now in the safety of my own home, I tried once again to wake her up, growing more desperate.
Taking a step out of the bright sun into the gentle AC of the lobby, an invisible weight on my shoulders felt as if it had been snuffed out as I was welcomed with the eerie calmness of an empty building. Each step to the elevator echoed against the white tile floor, and looking to the unmanned reception desk, I was suddenly very grateful that it was a Sunday afternoon. No people- no watching eyes. The muscles in my back uncoiled as I stepped into the east elevator, my shoulder blades bruising with self brought stress. As the silver doors slid shut, I was met with my wilted reflection that I had been neglecting all day. I don't know why, but a part of me expected myself to look different- that maybe my gaze would hold some new sentiment or my mouth would rest at a different expression. I didn't look like how I pictured an Alpha to look, to put it nicely. I didn't have the charismatic business smi
Sometimes, there are words in life you itch to hear- words that the very phantom of their utterance causes your skin to buzz and your blood to dance. They're the type of words which make us mute, ghost-like people feel, even if it is only for a brief moment, completely and utterly real.Forme, those words could be counted on one hand- and perhaps if I worked hard enough- maybe they would total as six. You see, I never was particularly fond of "I love you"s- they felt too easy and shallow. Nor did my heart hammer at simple compliments like "you're so pretty"or "how can you be so perfect?". Perhaps it's the human condition to crave that which you haven't had before- and for that reason, all I ever wanted to hear growing up was a simple, simple phrase. "I'm so proud of you, Aisha." For 20 years and 96 days, I had made my
Welcome to Goodnovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more adimiration from readers.