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The morning sunlight filtered in gently through the half-closed curtains, casting a golden hue over the apartment. Zayn sat cross-legged on his bed, still in his oversized T-shirt, the soft fabric wrinkled from sleep. His eyes were fixed on the medical report in his hand, his expression unreadable half in awe, half in disbelief.

"Six weeks pregnant."

He traced the words slowly with his finger, almost like he needed to touch them to make them real. Six weeks… and I never even noticed.

His thoughts were interrupted by the quiet sound of footsteps. A moment later, Rhys appeared at the doorway, holding a glass of orange juice.

“Morning,” Rhys said softly, walking in and offering the glass.

Zayn blinked out of his daze and took it with a quiet “Thanks.”

Rhys sat beside him on the bed, glancing at the papers in Zayn’s hands. “What are you looking at?”

Zayn held the report up slightly, not taking his eyes off it. “Just this... I’m six weeks pregnant, Rhys. And I never even noticed. Not a single sign.”

Rhys leaned back on his hands and exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I mean… the doctor said it’s normal, especially during your first pregnancy. Some people don’t even realize until much later.”

Zayn took a sip of juice, then let out a low chuckle. “Still. It’s weird. I used to laugh at people who found out late. Now look at me.”

“You’re not alone,” Rhys said with a soft smile. “And honestly, you handled it better than I expected. No throwing things, no dramatic screaming…”

“I was too shocked to react,” Zayn muttered. “Still kinda am.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

The quiet was comforting. Not heavy, not awkward just calm.

Zayn finally put the glass down on the side table and leaned back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling.

“I keep thinking… how can something be growing inside me and I didn’t even feel it?” he murmured.

Rhys followed his gaze. “You felt it. You just didn’t realize what it was. The mood swings, the tiredness, the way you’ve been spacing out lately…”

Zayn smirked. “I thought I was just emotionally unstable.”

“You are,” Rhys teased, nudging his shoulder. “But now you’ve got a real excuse.”

Zayn rolled his eyes but the smile on his lips didn’t fade. He looked down again, his hand absentmindedly resting on his stomach.

Six weeks.

In six weeks, everything had quietly changed.

Without warning. Without planning.

And yet… sitting there, with Rhys beside him, the sunlight pouring into their small living room, it didn’t feel like a disaster.

It felt like a beginning.

“You know what’s weird?” Zayn said suddenly.

“What?”

“I don’t feel scared anymore.”

Rhys turned his head. “You don’t?”

Zayn shook his head. “I mean, I probably should be. This changes everything. My future, my plans, my whole damn life… But right now, sitting here, it doesn’t feel terrifying. It feels…” He paused, searching for the word.

“Peaceful?” Rhys offered.

Zayn nodded slowly. “Yeah. Peaceful.”

Rhys smiled warmly. “You’re going to be okay, Zayn.”

Zayn looked at him. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Rhys said with certainty. “And no matter what happens next… you’re not going through this alone. You’ve got me. Always.”

Zayn leaned his head on Rhys’s shoulder and whispered, “Thank you…”

Rhys rested his head against Zayn’s, and the two of them sat there quietly—an omega with a soft storm inside him, and his best friend who had always stood by like a lighthouse in the dark.

The world outside might not understand yet. But in that moment, it didn’t need to.

They had each other.

And soon… they’d have someone else too.

.

.

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