Omega is meant to be easy—to bend the knees to their alpha, and sure enough, Sejanus has been doing that. He has given Coriolanus all that is his, more so that Omega is unworthy to stand in those halls of his father. Not that Strabo did not try to have his only child in the hall. Sometimes Sejanus wonders what his life would have been if it had not been defined by Coriolanus Snow. Sejanus snow. Normally, the name brings him warmth and safety, and it has. Yet Sejanus wonders when he starts to lose himself.
He feels like his ma, always somewhere in his father's shadow. Sure, Coriolanus is a good husband, and so is his father, but they can only do so much in a world where omegas are nothing more than wives and mothers, as societal norms dictate that a good omega should not question but submit. It was not like Sejanus did not hear the whisper, much less hated others pushing toward him.
Maybe it would be better if Sejanus brought it up to Coriolanus. He will listen, yes, but his action will fall empty like the dust and ash of a burning building. He wished he was more than the housewife that Coriolanus carved of him. Not that Sejanus minds; after all, Coriolanus never loved him unless he was submitted and sweet. And Sejanus really likes to be loved by Coriolanus. His baby is nice—so sweet and round. A little alpha and Coriolanus is proud. That all matters to Sejanus, even if he wishes for a little bit more.
