Chapter Text
PROLOGUE
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In English we say — “Kindness”
In Poetry, we say: “A ray of sunlight that is enough to create rainbows on someone's cloudy days”
For as long as Harry could recall, he always knew something was wrong with him but knowing was a completely different story. Having hyperosmia [hy-per-os-me-ah], which is ‘the overwhelming sensitivity to smells’ and hyperesthesia [ hy-per-es-thee-zhuh ], ‘the malfunction of one’s sense of touch’ , are not disorders you would want to have. Especially as an Omega. Harry’s parents were completely unaware that they were carriers of these genes. Gemma, his older sister, had turned out fine and dandy. Harry, on the other hand, did not. Growing up looked a lot different for Harry in many ways. As a child, he never really understood his disorder. His mom always told him that for his safety he needed to stay away from being touched, or touching other people. ‘Keep your hands to yourself, always love,’ she would tell him. Along with, ‘You must be aware of spending time in public places as it can trigger your hypersensitivity, sweetheart.’
For some reason, the scent and touch of his family were fine, but anyone else? Forget about it.
From infancy to childhood, doctors had prescribed Harry with anything that could ease his delicate condition. Most common were topical soothers for any irritation; rashes that he would often develop; as well as grape flavoured liquid suppressants; and the synthetic pheromone infused weighted blankets which were catered and created specifically to him. All of which he still uses to this very day, mainly just in different medication routes now that he’s an adult.
Being an omega was difficult, and being born with these two rare congenital disorders made it nearly a thousand times worse. Anytime his mother, Anne, would talk to him about his infancy, as Harry was always curious about his reactions, she would never fail to reassure him about how he was never a hard baby to raise. How he rarely communicated: only in different whines when he needed something, and on no occasion was he ever social; how he never, ever liked alphas. The only expectation being his dad. These traits combined with his behaviour eventually led to his diagnosis.
In his ‘Omega Studies’ class he learned a fetus' secondary gender (Omega, Alpha, or Beta) develops in utero, often influencing their presenting scent. Omegas tend to have lighter, sweeter scents whilst Alphas carry heavier, earthy ones. Most times, if a mother’s scent remains unchanged the baby is likely to be a beta. Alphas early on can often detect their mates pregnancy, and their child's secondary gender as they develop. Later on this is confirmed through an OB visit, where both the primary and secondary genders are identified and confirmed. Infants are born scentless, with their scent emerging around age of 12. Until then, they are taught about their secondary gender's societal role and expectations (which in hindsight, is seen as an outdated and sexist practice that should not be taught in schools).
Obviously as a child, you're curious about the world and the people around you so the omega took it upon himself to try to make friends. That didn’t work out so great. You see, children are mean. His schoolmates would often neglect him and never want to try to understand him. Making fun of Harry saying he had ‘cooties’ to understand why he wouldn’t touch anyone, not knowing that the young Omega did not want to infect them. As homeschooling was too expensive for his family, public school was his only option. The only friend that saved his sanity growing up was his childhood friend, Niall.
Niall’s family had moved in from Mullinger, Ireland when Harry was just five years-old. Anne welcomed the beta family to the neighbourhood, thus introducing Harry to Niall. Niall understood all of Harry’s boundaries from a young age and after being sat down by both of their moms explaining his condition in very simple terms; what their friendship might look like, the beta’s love showed no bounds and Harry loved him all the more for it.
Being an omega, Harry clinged to Niall, the scentless beta sort of became a lifeline (not that the beta minded at all). So, Harry frequently found himself in the comfort of Niall’s home most days after school. Once, Niall got too eager with his affections, hugging Harry which caused his rashes to flare up again. After that incident, Harry began to carry around his soothing medication. Accidental touches became a frequent thing, not only with Niall, but in the tube as well. As the amazing friend he is, Niall also began to carry an extra prescription of Harry’s medication around with him in case the omega forgot.
Harry often kept to himself, or hung out with betas. Alpha, and other omega scents would begin to overstimulate him if he was around them for long periods of time, frequently resulting in headaches. Harry more often than not, would find himself dropping when around them. He frequently neglected his instincts, and only ever turned to nesting for comfort. Unknowingly, he’d developed touch deprivation (TD), all thanks to his condition.
Frequently trying to find solutions to his problems, Harry found himself doing research in his own time regarding his condition. After finding a forum of a small group of people who also suffer with the same conditions, someone mentioned the benefits of a support animal for patients with TD. The next day, Harry found himself adopting a one-year-old kitten he called Princess. The little lady was somewhat of an anchor for Harry. On tougher days, Harry would return home and drop in his nest to which Princess would always follow, finding the time to lay on top of the omega and purr. Her vibrations, although very timid, helped enough that Harry was able to drop peacefully and sometimes wake up less irritated and more calm.
After graduating with his undergraduate degree in English Literature from the University of Manchester, Niall and Harry moved to Central London. They lived together for a short while, until Niall eventually met and moved in with his beta girlfriend, Amelia. When he was 28, Harry made the decision to continue his education and get his Masters in Modern and Contemporary Literature at the University of Westminster, whilst feeling painfully single. Meanwhile, Niall, in true Irish fashion, explored his talents through a series of odd jobs and was currently working as a bartender at a lively club in Soho.
Despite living only a 15-minute walk apart, they both made a pact to see each other regularly; often meeting at Harry’s for drinks and movie nights and occasionally heading to Niall’s when they had the energy. During that transitional period of his life, Harry found himself juggling coursework and a remote editing job at a publishing company in South London which provided valuable experience in the publishing world, and helped him at least get his foot in the door. That was about two years ago. Now, graduated and content in the safe haven that was his apartment, Harry wouldn’t want anything to change in his life or his little routine—except maybe for his genetic disorder. He was perfectly content.
Until him.