𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣-𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤

In a private booth of a nightclub, a group of long-legged, broad-shouldered alphas huddle around the table, drinks in hands. The air is layered with pheromones and adrenaline, occasionally flashing with neon lights and blurred with thin smoke. 

In the middle of the couch, Heeseung sits leisurely, manspreading with ease. On either side of him, Jay and Riki lean back in a similar posture, each of them engaged in the conversation bouncing between the team.

The team has just won a friendly match against their long-sworn rival, a university from the west, after a frustrating streak of loss for two consecutive tournaments. It wasn’t really a landslide win, considering their competitive skills, but a win is a win. A satisfied smirk curls around Heeseung’s bow-shaped lips, his alpha purring with pride.

Friendly or not, the whiskey surely tastes extra sweet tonight.

“Did you see K’s face just now?” Riki pipes up from his left, still buzzing with adrenaline. Being the last man to score and secure the win for them, it’s obviously hard for Riki to contain his enthusiasm. He’s beaming wide. “I did that. I wiped that smirk off his face, gentlemen!”

The rest of the team roars in reply, infected by Riki’s contagious excitement. Heeseung and Jay wear a fond smile on their lips, clearly delighted to see the younger alpha’s happiness. Glasses clink again as they toast to their win, and to their future wins, and to the sexy, beautiful cheerleading omegas that played a part in keeping their spirits up just now—to which Jay grimaces and Riki rolls his eyes at. Heeseung snorts.

He forgets that he’s friends with a prude and a loyal, claimed alpha.

“Speaking of omegas,” Heeseung tilts his head at Riki when the chatters break into small groups of conversations among the team, leaving him to talk to two of his closest friends. “It’s a surprise to see you here, Ki. Like seeing a four-leaf clover.”

Jay joins in, his signature lopsided grin on display. “I half-expected you to run home to your girlfriend. It’s hard to see you hang out with us at the club now, pup.”

Riki crosses his arms with a dramatic huff. His bottom lip juts out in a pout. In this light, when Riki shows this side of him, free from fake nonchalance and his cool persona, Heeseung sees him ten years younger than his actual age. Riki is so cute.

“I fully expected to run home to her too, hyung. But she forced me to come here. Said something like I should celebrate my win with y’all,” Riki sighs, messing with his newly-dyed hair and tipping his head back. “So here I am. Drinking with you idiots when I could’ve cuddled with my sweet, sweet omega at home.”

Jay feigns offence while Heeseung laughs. The both of them know too well of Riki’s devotion to his girlfriend. Maybe it’s the alpha-omega bond, or just the fact that they’ve known each other practically their whole lives, but Riki is never at ease whenever she’s not around. 

But tonight, the alpha seems more relaxed than usual. He’s not playing with his fingers or toying with the hem of his shirt like he always did when his girlfriend is absent. Heeseung wonders why the sudden change until he catches a glimpse of something at the back of Riki’s neck.

His brows furrow. His movement falters mid-air.

“Riki? Is that…” Heeseung squints his eyes, trying to see better while the tips of Riki’s ears slowly redden. From his right, Heeseung can hear a soft gasp from Jay.

“Holy shit. Is that your mating mark, Ki?”

It is. It is a mating mark, Heeseung realises, when a purple neon light flashes on Riki’s wounded skin. The alpha is rubbing his neck sheepishly now, heat sweeping across his cheeks. Despite his sudden shy demeanour, Heeseung can smell the pride in his sandalwood scent, and in that moment he finally notices the subtle layer of sweet vanilla—Riki’s girlfriend’s scent—in Riki’s pheromones.

“Yeah,” Riki confirms, still red like a tomato. “I mated with her last night.”

“Wow,” Jay breathes out in amazement, eyes sparkling in the dim light. “About time, man! You’re finally mated!”

Jay’s exclamation attracts attention and soon, the whole group is congratulating Riki on the milestone. The said alpha is red down to his neck now, clearly not expecting the sudden shift of focus on him but still relishing in the pride of having his mating mark, if the musky lilt to his pheromones is anything to go by. 

Heeseung remains a quiet observer, watching as Riki pulls down the collar of his shirt to proudly show the mark. Two other alphas join him as they speak fondly of their omegas, relishing in their identical mating mark on their napes. Beside him, Jay listens with an adoring smile. There’s a certain longing in his gaze when he stares at the mated alphas that doesn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung. 

Heeseung averts his eyes away, trying to forget that familiar look on Jay’s face. He almost scoffs at the image.

He knows that look like the back of his hand. 

Jay, too, yearns for a mate. Like Riki. Unlike Heeseung.

Mate. It’s the word that is so common in omegaverse but so foreign in Heeseung’s little world.

If Jay is a walking green flag that effortlessly attracts omegas with his gentleman charms, Heeseung is a running red flag that chases after willing omegas. If Jay stays away from wild sex life, Heeseung lives by it. If Jay dates to marry, Heeseung fucks to breathe. He’s everything Jay’s not that Riki was so bewildered when the two first met him.

Don’t get him wrong—he’s not the creepy kind of chaser. Rather, he likes to call himself the sexy one. It’s not hard for him to pull; just a few flirty comments here and a couple of filthy whispers there and the next hour he’ll have an omega to bring home and under him. 

He doesn’t know if he’s the only one wired this way, but where territorial instincts stream in his alpha blood, his sexual desires run even harder and faster. It’s like an itch that just won’t get away if he doesn’t scratch at it. He’s an attractive alpha with a high sex drive, he admits it, but is he really wrong to accept any omegas with his long, eager arms?

He thinks not.

Plus, they’re omegas. Heeseung tries not to objectify them, but gosh, the scent wafting from them is always so sweet and inviting. They’re curved softly, meant to hold and love the right, physical way that he’s known how to. He’s a weak man, and an even weaker alpha; Heeseung can’t resist a good fuck between two consenting adults and he always, always consents to being sucked off dry and scratched to bleed. 

Fuck, just thinking about it is already making him excited.

Heeseung’s eyes wander, tuning out the conversation about mate as he scans for any attractive omega. It’s starting to bore him—the talk about mate and having a mate and being mated—so he’s entertaining himself with the exposed skin and swaying hips of dancing omegas on the dance floor.

For someone like him that gets off on having sex with omegas and being drunk on their sweet pheromones, mating culture is a big no for him. The idea of being tied to only one omega makes him laugh; it sounds ridiculous to him. He’s an alpha capable of giving and his knot is not limited to only one hole, so why should he settle?

Only hopeless-romantic alphas believe in the belief of fated mates. And unfortunately, two of his friends do. Heeseung mentally rolls his eyes.

He decides that he’s had enough when the mated alphas start talking about having pups; another commitment that makes goosebumps rise in his skin. Wordlessly, he places his shot glass on the table, having sipped only half of it throughout the night. 

“Leaving already?” Jay asks, craning his neck when Heeseung stands. The latter only cocks his head to the dance floor with a knowing look. The corner of his mouth curves into a playful smirk when Jay makes a face.

“The usual.”

Jay shakes his head. “Whatever. Just don’t do it raw.”

“I’m always clean and safe, Jongseong.” Heeseung retorts, already taking his leave. “Call me when you’re leaving.”

Whatever Jay replies is muffled by the loud bass and Heeseung couldn’t care less to know what the alpha has said. Probably throwing him insults for using him as his personal chauffeur again. Heeseung only shrugs. Jay’s not his concern tonight. He has a bigger fish, or rather, a pretty wolf, to catch.

His eyes sweep across the space. From where he’s standing, his nose can pick up different scents of alphas and omegas. Even the faint scent of betas are visible, usually amplified by alcohol and adrenaline. He’s still deciding between two male omegas throwing asses back on the dance floor and a group of female omegas giggling at a table not far from him when a spiked scent stabs at his senses.

His nose instantly scrunches, frowning as he tries to detect that smell. An omega in distress. It’s faint, coming from the direction of the exit door, but he can’t see anyone crying or visibly uncomfortable in his line of sight.

Heeseung looks around, momentarily distracted from his initial mission. Nobody seems to notice the scent, however, and Heeseung blames his dominant traits for this. He sometimes forgets that he’s a dominant alpha. Unlike Jay and Riki, his senses are more sensitive and developed, which is a blessing when he’s looking for a hookup and a curse when he’s inside the locker room after a game when the air is drenched in his teammates’ pheromones. Heeseung shudders at the memories. He’s always the first to shower and leave the room because only Riki smells good when sweating.

His thoughts are brought back when the scent intensifies. Heeseung keeps sniffing and blindly follows the trail of wilting daisies and burnt honey, his shoulders braced and jaw tense. He doesn’t know why, but the scent has awakened his senses to a new degree. His alpha is on full alert now. 

He passes by dancing bodies and tables to get to the exit door but he’s stopped by a hand on his arm. Heeseung looks down.

A soft, seductive voice reaches his ears. “Heeseung-ssi?”

Heeseung blinks at the smiling omega. After a second of stunned silence, he finally recognises the logo on her varsity jacket and the makeup on her face. Realisation dawns upon him.

She’s part of his college’s cheerleader squad.

The omega is running a hand up and down his arm now, arching her back to flaunt the soft swell of her chest. Behind her, her fellow cheerleaders watch closely, hiding eager smiles behind their palms. Heeseung looks down at her hand, gulping despite himself. 

“Spare me a few minutes, will you, my precious, capable alpha?”

Her voice is so enticing, dripping with the kind of allure Heeseung’s so much familiar with. There is a strong wave of her sweet scent—bubblegum and cotton candy, Heeseung notes—coming from her in full force. She’s fluttering her lashes now, hoping he’ll get the message. 

Heeseung does; oh does he get the message so well. He knows what she’s hinting on and on any other nights he’ll succumb to the temptation without putting any efforts to think, melting into a puddle of juices at the slightest touch of seductive omegas. It’s a no-brainer decision for him, usually, because he’s always ready to fuck and he always brings a pack of condom with him for this sole reason.

But tonight his wolf is restless. And the reason is none other than the bitter scent still clinging to his nose.

Heeseung gives a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and removes her hand from his arm. The omega frowns, brows almost uniting at the center when the alpha takes a step back.

“Next time, yeah?”

Without waiting for her reply, Heeseung slips away from the crowd, ignoring the sour turn of her pheromones. He can feel their eyes boring into his back, but that’s not his concern now. Following the haunting scent and the sudden flaring instincts to get closer to the owner of it, Heeseung lets his legs bring him closer to the exit door. 

Heeseung hates to admit it, but right now, his wolf is thrashing at the bitter scent and his chest feels like caving in. He can feel the itch in his nails; his claws are threatening to sharpen. He frowns.

He’s never reacted this way to any omegas in distress. So why now? Why this particular scent?

When he reaches the door, Heeseung doesn’t waste a second to push it open and steps outside. As he does so, a weight suddenly crashes into his chest, pushing him slightly backwards from the force.

“Oof—” 

Heeseung reaches up to steady the figure by the arms. At this sudden proximity, the scent is thicker, the wilting daisies are more prominent it's making his heart constrict. Heeseung lets out a deep exhale and looks down to the person practically in his arms. 

A female omega. Clearly in distress, judging by the unshed tears and the tremble in her lips. A familiar varsity jacket drapes across her frame and Heeseung feels his breath stop when he recognises that face.

It’s you. One of the cheerleaders. Heeseung knows many cheerleaders, having been in bed with most of them; but even the most forgetful alpha will remember an omega like you.

A sweet face with a sweeter scent to match, but you are always detached from alphas and their advances. You’re the shy cheerleader his teammates always talk about. The untouchable one. The politely-smile-and-then-reject omega. Heeseung remembers you too well, being one of those rejected alphas himself.

He still remembers how disappointed his wolf was, whining and pouting when a pretty omega he had his eyes on rejected him. But Heeseung is a respectful alpha. He’ll take a no as a no. And you were also so kind when doing so that he moved on from it pretty fast and well.

That was one year ago.

Now you’re crying in his arms, for whatever reasons he doesn’t know and is determined to find out. He can feel your hold on his arms tighten, the spike in your scent when you recognise him, and the hitch in your breath that follows. The bitter scent is definitely coming from you.

“H-Heeseung?” Your voice is so small, like you’re not sure if you can call his name. It’s shaky and breathless. “Please help me.”

Behind you, Heeseung can see three shadows entering the alleyway. Even from the distance, his nose immediately picks up the pheromones of aroused alphas; thick and unpleasant. Your scent lingers amidst the stench, wavering in fear, so heavy he can practically taste it on his tongue. Heeseung instinctively pulls you closer.

“Are they bothering you?”

You nod frantically, the tears now spilling freely down your cheeks. When you speak, your voice is wet from tears and fear.

Nothing can ever prepare Heeseung for the words that are about to leave your mouth.

“P-Please…Please scent me.” You sob, clutching the sleeves of his T-shirt tighter. Heeseung’s breath stutters. “Please, Heeseung.”

Scent-mark. A low rumble sounds from his chest.

You’re asking him to mark you. To…claim you. It’s basically you asking him to bond with you, to shower you with his pheromones and make you smell like him. Smell like you’re his.

This is not what Heeseung’s looking forward to tonight. The fantasy of saving an omega in distress and scent-marking belongs to Jay, an alpha that was even willing to help an omega in heat out of the goodness of his heart. But not Heeseung. That’s never Heeseung. Heeseung doesn’t play the hero; he’s the one stealing the female lead from them.

Scent-marking is way…too intimate to share between two complete strangers with no interaction—that is, if you consider being rejected to having sex together as zero interaction.

Heeseung looks between you and the shadows closing in, then licks his lips. “I can’t,” he tries, and the broken look on your face damn near makes his heart take the same fate. Heeseung schools his expression, forcing himself to push you slightly away from him.

“I—This is not right. You don’t want this.”

He can’t take advantage of you. This is just your scared omega speaking. Outside of this situation, he’s damn sure you’d refuse any kind of bonds with him. Heeseung might be a sex addict, but he’s not an asshole.

But you pull him with you, shaking your head as you keep taking a glance at the approaching alphas. “I do! Please,” you choke, failing to keep your voice steady as you plead at the alpha in front of you. Heeseung forces restraint to his instincts. “Please just scent-mark me, Heeseung. I-I can’t—They will—” You heave a deep breath, your scent taking a sourer lilt at his refusal.

“They won’t back down unless it’s another alpha.”

Something sharp stabs at his chest, rendering him speechless and frozen for a moment. Heeseung stares at your trembling figure, at your shrinking body as if to make yourself disappear, and it suddenly hits him how disgusting the whole situation is.

They won’t back down unless it’s another alpha.

Alphas only take a no when it comes from another alpha.

Heeseung feels nauseous. His throat closes in and there’s a quiet ringing in his ears. In that heavy, stilled silence, everything is muffled to his senses. Only the echoes of your words ripple in his mind.

Unless it’s another alpha.

It’s a hard pill to swallow; one that Heeseung finds it bitter to believe—because it’s so, so easy to walk away from omegas than force yourself on them. It’s so, so easy to shoot your pride down than dwell on it and go feral over a rejection. It’s so, so easy to respect an omega, even for a fuckboy like him, so why is it hard for other alphas to do so?

And the result of this harsh world, of this fucked up power imbalance is sobbing in his arms, shaking and forcing herself to be okay with an unwanted bond just to save herself. Heeseung’s heart breaks for you, for the fate that follows a beautiful being like you just because of secondary genders and because the world says so.

“Please, I-I don’t—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Heeseung whispers, rubbing a soothing circle on your arms. Your crying subsides a fraction. “I’ll scent you if that makes you feel better. Is that…okay?”

You blink at him tearily, streaks of salty tears tainting your unblemished cheeks. Even with a swollen face, you still look as pretty as he remembers.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, taking a hold of your wrist when he senses those alphas getting near. “Or we can just get inside and call the cops on them if you change your mind. You can find—”

“No,” you grip him tighter, your previously-calmed scent spiking again. “Cops are useless. T-They won’t—please, Heeseung. You know how they are.”

You know how unfair the system is.

Heeseung swallows hard before he nods, the burnt honey in your pheromones starting to get really thick and sticky. He rubs the inside of your wrists, slow and deliberate, before bringing the scent gland to his nose. It’s the most appropriate point to scent, less intimate than scenting at your neck, which he guesses the last thing you want from him right now.

The tip of his nose caresses the delicate skin tentatively, testing and tasting before he takes a deep inhale. Immediately, the scent of daisies and honey fill up his senses and Heeseung’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling. There is a rush of energy bursting through his veins, his senses tingling and his wolf purring at the sweet combination of your pheromones. Heeseung feels his wolf hum, almost singing and sighing, like his muscles are unknotting in a hot spring. 

It’s strange. It’s new. But Heeseung pushes the thoughts aside.

He runs his nose over your wrist over and over again, blanketing you in his pheromones and starting to feel you relax in his arms.

The tension in your shoulders visibly disappears as you let yourself melt into Heeseung. You sigh. Heeseung’s pheromones are just like him; warm spice of cinnamon carried by cool air of sea breeze. It symbolises his fierce persona on the court and his calm demeanour when he’s out of his jersey perfectly. You lean into him further, your squirming wolf unknowingly calms down when being washed by his pheromones.

If Heeseung notices the change in your demeanour, he doesn’t say anything about it, shoving the thought to the back of his mind. His singular focus is entirely on your pulse, nosing at your wrist and pumping out his calming pheromones. When he opens his eyes, they mirror the look in yours: dazed and slightly glassy. The air is now loaded with daisies and cinnamon, intertwining with each other in a perfect, balanced mix of scent. 

Heeseung tries to ignore the loud pounding of his heart, but it’s all he can hear. He tries to ignore the stars in your eyes, but it’s all he can see. He tries to ignore how perfectly balanced the mix of your scent is with his. His grip on your wrist tightens, breath caught in his throat. His wolf refuses to let you go, wanting to keep you here, tucked safely in his embrace for as long as he can.

And that thought is so foreign and scary. He really hopes that’s just his wolf and not him.

“Hey, little bunny.” A sick, twisted voice interrupts. 

Oh, right. 

Those fucking, disgusting alphas.

Heeseung is always slouching, making him appear shorter than he actually is. But in that moment, he’s standing so tall, dominating the space around him like the air is making room for him itself. 

He instinctively pulls you behind him, shielding you from the hungry eyes of the approaching alphas. His shoulders are braced like they’re ready for an impact and Heeseung has to force a snarl down his throat when his eyes land on the wolves.

When the shadows step under the light, it takes less than a second for Heeseung to see the jerseys clinging to their bodies before he realises who he’s looking at. 

They’re the players from the opposing team that his team just beat tonight. 

K, EJ, and Nicholas.

Heeseung grinds his jaw so hard he might pop a vessel.

“If it’s not the mighty Lee Heeseung,” K taunts, wearing a smug smirk like a badge at the sight in front of him. He cocks his head, trying to see you over Heeseung’s shoulders. You cower. “Mind sharing your pretty little cheerleader? She’s exactly my type, shy but slutty.”

Shame spreads across your skin and you screw your eyes shut. Shy and slutty, you bite your lips. You’re nothing but a kinky fantasy for alphas like them.

As if sensing your turmoil, Heeseung stands taller, his eyes narrowing thin.

“Get lost.” Heeseung tries to hold back, but the rage he feels seeps through anyway. “And cover your gland, for fuck’s sake. You stink.”

K’s eyebrows shoot up, his grin turning cheshire. “Come on, man. Are you gatekeeping your cheerleaders?” K tries to take a peek at you, but Heeseung moves and covers you with his whole body. His frown deepens. “You had fucked her already. Don’t be greedy, captain.”

His alpha minions laugh, and Heeseung is now seeing red. Something hot spreads in his chest, burning in his vein like wildfire at the insult. Was it a hit to his ego and his shameless sexual routine? Definitely, but Heeseung never takes it to heart. Rather, it’s the way you gasp and sob into his back, shaken by the disgusting assumption of your dignity and your virginity. The storm of the ocean spikes in the air, taking his pheromones to a dangerous peak, gathering a tide to a new height.

Heeseung doesn’t think he’s ever released pheromones this bad. But something about seeing the same pattern of omegas falling victim to empty-headed alphas makes his blood boil.

Behind him, you whimper, your omega reacting to the agitated alpha in front of you. But Heeseung is now relentless. He holds out an arm around your waist, protecting you from their sight in a tight, almost-possessive grip.

“Watch your fucking mouth. Don’t you get it?” Heeseung seethes, pupils thinning as the laughter dies down. “She doesn’t want you. In what fucking language must she say no for your stupid brain to understand? She’s—”

Mine. She’s mine, his wolf howls. My omega. 

Heeseung grits his teeth.

No, she’s not. Get a fucking grip, Lee Heeseung. You don’t have a mate.

“...not a toy.”

The sea-salt bite of his pheromones thickens in the alley. K scoffs, stepping forward in offense but is stopped by Nicholas. The latter has his arm shot out against K’s chest, preventing him from approaching the couple.

“No, K,” Nicholas murmurs, nose sniffing at the heavy pheromones in the air. Underneath the eye-watering spice of cinnamon and the raging storm of Heeseung’ sea breeze scent, there is a tangled sweetness of daisies and honey clinging to it. He visibly gulps. “They’re together. And Heeseung…”

Nicholas throws him a side eye, giving him a once-over briefly. He takes in the sharp glare directed his way, the downturned curl of his mouth, the tense shoulders ready to pounce. Nicholas shudders imperceptibly and shakes his head.

“…He’s a dominant alpha.”

His statement, though meant to deescalate the situation, only rages Heeseung on further. The alpha takes a menacing step forward, eyes narrowing thin at the trio. They falter back.

“Get this in your empty brains you freaks,” Heeseung grits, fuming beyond reason. Nicholas swears he sees something red flickering in his irises. 

“When someone says no, you back the fuck off. Dominant alpha or not. Omega or not.” He spits out the word, the venom in his voice nearly poisons the air. “Do you fucking get it?”

His raging pheromones are turning physical, pressing on each pair of lungs like lead on a mattress. Nicholas fights the urge to cover his nose and pulls his two friends backwards with him.

“We get it. Sorry, captain.”

“Not me,” Heeseung hisses. A low growl rumbles in warning. “Her.”

Nicholas licks his lips and nods. He bows down quickly, forcing the other alphas to bend despite it hurting his pride. K reluctantly follows, though his eyes return the glare Heeseung gives him in a similar intensity. 

“We’re sorry, omega. Shit, I don’t know your name, but—we’re sorry.”

In the next moment, the three alphas are already retreating. Nicholas aggressively whispers something among them while K visibly restrains himself from running back to Heeseung. He clearly doesn’t mind taking up a challenge with the dominant alpha and Heeseung finds himself not minding to dirty his hands too.

A beat of heavy silence falls upon you. You stay rooted in place, pulse racing in your ears. Heeseung is still facing away from you, ragged breathing slowing down. The air of dense pheromones is thinning out, leaving behind trails of spicy cinnamon and soft daisies.

You let out a breath and your knees buckle. 

Heeseung is by your side in a flash, the same, now-familiar arms caging you against his tall frame. You put your hands on his chest, trying to steady the wobble in your legs.

“Hey, hey. You’re okay now. They’re gone.”

They really are. You cry. They’re actually gone.

An ugly sob racks through your chest and soon, the wilting daisies are back, staining the air with crumpled petals and sad flowers. Heeseung tightens his hold. He doesn’t like seeing people cry, but his alpha apparently despises it the most when he sees you in this state.

His calming pheromones pour out in waves, hands carding through your hair gently. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

You’re safe with me.

Your crying slows down. For a few seconds, you let yourself savour the warmth of Heeseung’s  embrace. Closer, his pheromones, layered with a faint trail of his body wash, are stronger, filling up the almost-nonexistent space between the two of you. Strangely, the spice and the salt work wonders on calming you down.

Your wolf—previously anxious and distressed—is now quiet. 

Heeseung adjusts his hold on you, and in that moment do you only realise in horror how long you’ve been shamelessly hugging him. Like a reflex, you pull away from his embrace, cheeks now flaming red when his shirt is now stained with two big spots of your tears.

“I’m sorry!” Your palms instinctively rub at the stains, as if they can dry out the tears out of the fabric. “I’ll buy you a new shirt.”

Heeseung looks down, silently watching the small of your palms against his broad chest. There’s a strange flutter that follows, quiet and unfamiliar. He hopes that you can’t feel it through the fabric.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Heeseung murmurs, eyes finding their ways back to your face. Red nose, swollen eyes, blotched cheeks. You really went through it, still sniffling as you still try to fix the stains on his shirt. A small part of him twists uncomfortably.

Heeseung catches your wrists, his thumbs moving almost instinctively against the soft skin.Your breath catches as you lift your gaze to look at him.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asks, voice soft and gentle. You immediately nod, admittedly feeling better after being bathed in his calming pheromones.

“I’m okay. Just a bit thirsty.”

He searches your face, as if trying to detect any kind of discomfort or distress. But in the end, he ends up staring into your eyes, counting the lashes that guard your beautiful eyes.

It should end there. He really should just escort you back into the safety of your friend group and leave you be. Perhaps, he can go find the previous omega, seduce his way back and bring her home. The normal. The usual.

But something inside stirs in protest to that idea, and so instead he finds himself saying: “Let’s get you something to drink.”

The convenience store is bright under the dark sky, located just two blocks away from the nightclub. It’s already past one in the morning, but to the people of the night, it’s only the beginning of fun. From a distance, the queue line is only getting longer.

Beside you, Heeseung is walking on the edge of the pavement, looking out for cars despite the slow traffic. He’s been quiet since the alleyway, seemingly lost in thought. Occasionally, his hand will brush yours, a quiet graze that sends electricity in your system. You try not to react.

The convenience store is empty, save for a group of partygoers sobering up around the round table outside, leaving only a long bench beside the door empty. You stop when Heeseung does, his hand already tapping on the sensory handle.

“Wait here. I’ll buy you something to drink.”

You nod, obediently sitting down. Heeseung takes one last look at you before he enters the store, the harsh lights greeting his tired eyes. He grabs the coldest mineral water and stops in front of the necessities shelves.

Without thinking, his hand moves like it has a mind of its own, grabbing whatever his eyes land on—a heat pack, chocolate, a pack of wet tissues. It’s only when the cashier scans the items that he pauses, staring at the items with wide eyes.

Since when does he…do this?

“Anything to add, sir?”

Heeseung gulps, looks past the cashier’s head, and lands on the rows of pills behind him.

She cried too much, she might have a headache.

And so, as if on instinct, Heeseung adds paracetamol to his receipt.

Outside, the air is cooler, biting at exposed skin like a bug. Heeseung wordlessly sits beside you, placing the plastic bag on his lap. You curiously peek into the bag.

“That’s a lot. Are you hungry?”

Heeseung pauses, realisation dawns upon him. His instincts flare again. “No. Are you? Do you want ramyeon? Or packed rice? I can—”

“No! It’s fine, Heeseung,” you laugh softly, the sound like a melodious chime of a bell to his ears. “I had dinner.”

Heeseung visibly relaxes and nods. He hands you the bottle first, twisting the cap open before passing it over without a word. He watches you drink, takes the bottle from you, and gives you the heat pack next.

You blink at him. “It’s cold,” Heeseung shrugs, pulling your hand towards him and placing the heat pack on your palm. He closes your fingers over it. “This will warm you up a bit.”

For a second, you just stare at him. The warmth in your hand spreads from your fingers up to your chest, where your heart is thumping wildly at his gentle act.

You bring the heat pack to your neck, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you stare at him, cheeks blooming red. They put him in a trance, your eyes, as Heeseung finds himself unable to look away. His gaze then drops to your lips when they move, already clinging to every syllable without even knowing it.

“Thank you, Heeseung.”

The flutter comes back, now more frantic and aggressive than before, like a caged bird trying to escape. This time, Heeseung forces himself to look away, the plastic bag wrinkles under his tightening grip. 

“Don’t mention it.”

“I mean it, though.” You counter back, gazing at the passing cars as you feel a gust of chilling wind breezing through. You scoot closer to the heat beside you. “It was really scary. Thank you for helping me out.”

There’s a bitter tone, faint and subtle, to your scent, as if you’re recalling the ugly incident that just happened almost half an hour ago. Heeseung clenches his jaw. 

Before he can stop it, his pheromones spill out like soft waves, calming and comforting, cocooning you again like a safety blanket. His wolf hums in quiet satisfaction, watching the way your shoulders loosen, the tension melting off you bit by bit.

Heeseung doesn’t know when or how it happened, but there’s no gap between you now. But he doesn’t hate it like he thought he would. Here, you’re so close to him, your shoulder practically glued to his, seeking warmth from his body heat.

It’s a foreign feeling. A comfortable, foreign feeling.

You stay in that position, slowly getting drunk on his pheromones. Your eyes droop, fighting sleep, but the exhaustion from running away from scary alphas has finally caught up to you. Before you know it, your head dips against his shoulder, breath evening out as your fingers lose their grip on the heat pack. 

Heeseung swallows. He doesn’t dare move. From the proximity, he can smell your fruity hair wash, blending smoothly with your scent. 

It’s so unfair. Every inch of you smells really good, whether it’s your natural scent or the products that you use. It’s like every inch of your skin decides that you only deserve to smell the best, and Heeseung himself can’t help but agree too. It’s so unfair.

Heeseung finds his hands hover awkwardly in the air, hesitating for a second before settling carefully on your head. His fingers thread through your hair, slower this time.

“Don’t feel scared anymore,” he mumbles, gently caressing the dark strands of your hair. 

It’s me who should feel scared.

His fingers freeze in your hair. 

Scared. He is scared.

This is not him. If Riki or Jay were to walk in to see him in this state, they’d drag him to the nearest police station and demand they find the real Heeseung. The normal Heeseung. The usual Heeseung.

The Heeseung that doesn’t stay, or spend his time watching people breathe in their sleep. The Heeseung who’s out the door before the sheets even cool down. The Heeseung that dislikes small touches like these; like caressing the hair of the girl he just saved, because the only physical touch he brands himself with is sex.

Not this. Not whatever this is.

He wants to move, but his body doesn’t listen—he stays despite himself. His wolf, like it’s found something it’s been looking for all along, settles deeper instead, quiet and satisfied. You nuzzle closer into his body and Heeseung feels his chest tighten.

Something uneasy creeps up his spine.

This should feel suffocating. It should itch under his skin, make him want to pull away, shake you off, leave. 

But it doesn’t. It feels easy. Too easy, in fact.

And it scares the shit out of him.

When your senses return to you, the first thing that greets you is someone’s scent.

Warm, spicy cinnamon and calm, salty sea air.

The memory follows not long after; of angry frowns and disgusting smirks that make your skin crawl. Amidst it all, a familiar face flashes in your mind and you feel your heart stutter.

Heeseung.

The pulse in your wrist thuds violently, as if not letting you forget the owner of the pheromones now wrapped around you like a soft blanket. You faintly remember, in your subconscious, being carried to a car and your roommate, Yujin, hugging you in panic. Unconsciously, you pull your blanket closer to your chest.

Did Heeseung send you home? Did he really…scent-mark you to help you?

You bite your lips between your teeth. The clarity is palpable now that the haziness of pheromones and distress are no longer around. There’s no way an alpha—a dominant one, at that—is willing to scent-mark an omega he has no connections to. The implications are more than the action itself. Heeseung surely knows about that, right? 

It feels like a dream. It has to be a dream.

What a capable alpha, your wolf preens. Shut up, you hiss.

Then, as if the universe was insistent to prove you wrong, your eyes land on a plastic bag placed neatly on top of your vanity, a damning evidence of last night’s incident.

No way.

Your brain swirls with possibilities and your own made-up theories that it has started to throb faintly. Before you could lose your sanity, thread by unraveling thread, you rush to the bathroom to, hopefully, get rid of his scent, even when your omega begs you not to.

Unfortunately for the human-you, the cinnamon trails after you even post-showers. It clings to your clothes when you change and it doesn’t let you go even as you sit for breakfast prepared by your doting roommate. It’s strange, really. No one’s scent ever clung to you so stubbornly like this, like a chewing gum latching on shoe soles. You always cuddle with Yujin and even her green tea pheromones never stay with you after washing up.

“It’s a bit odd, yes,” Yujin munches through a mouthful of her own signature pancake. “But it’s not totally out-of-this-world. His scent will fade by this evening, I promise.”

You chew painfully slowly, eyes going wide at another possibility. “You don’t think that I conjured some kind of bond with him, right?”

It’s common knowledge that a thin, fragile bond can be easily formed when an alpha and an omega scent each other, mated or not. After all, context and intention are greatly considered, whether it’s meant for familiarity, protection, or possessiveness—each one will determine how long it’ll last.

You pull at the sleeves of your cardigan, a telltale sign of your anxiousness. The same wilting daisies accent of your scent from the night before comes back, signalling your impending distress. Yujin drops her fork and reaches a hand to yours.

“Hey, hey. Calm down for a sec, Y/N.”

“It’s just,” you swallow harshly, your traitorous mind replaying the scene from last night. Your heart thumps at the base of your throat. “I don’t know—fuck. I forced him to do this. And—and despite the circumstances, he still helped me and now…now I think…”

Your eyes turn glassy, reminded of the wolf residing deep inside you.

“I think my omega might like him.”

Yujin is silent for a moment, assessing the right words to say. It’s obvious to everyone on campus of the nature of Lee Heeseung. He’s not exactly the alpha you’d seek for companionship or commitment; he seems to be allergic to those things. 

And to get your wolf to like him…well, let’s say that you’re already set for thousand-words of angst and a life of yearning. Yujin isn’t exactly fond of the idea of dishing out what you already knew. You already seem restless enough with your own thoughts.

“Okay. That’s valid.” Yujin starts slowly, treading through every syllable like a mother to her kindergartener son. “He’s super attractive. It’s understandable. But you can, you know—unlike him.”

You perk up at that, though the doubt clouding your face is more prominent now. “How?”

“Find a better alpha,” Yujin shrugs, as if explaining the world’s simplest equation. “For the record, I do think Heeseung’s a good guy, just not in the romantic department. I don’t know why your wolf is picking a fuckboy out of all alphas, but taste is subjective.”

“It’s because he stepped up and protected me!” You deflect and pause, realising how defensive of him you have become. Yujin raises a brow and you sigh, defeated, slumping in your seat.

“Fuck. Now my omega hates you for badmouthing him.”

“Sucks to be you.”

“Just kill me.”

Yujin shoots you a small smile, pushing your now-cold plate closer to you. You reluctantly take a bite. “Why not someone else, though? You could ask literally any other alpha, like—” Yujin pauses and it takes her less than a second to pick a name. “Jay. Like Jay. He’s like, the safest option, the greenest flag. But why Heeseung? And don’t tell me it’s because he was the only one there—you could’ve just barged in and found someone else. It’s a freaking nightclub.”

You freeze, unmoving for a slow second. There is, of course, an answer to that. One that you admittedly avoid to admit, because admitting it will admit that there is something underneath that only you know, and you admit that it’s scary to admit that. Fuck this admission! Yujin wouldn’t make fun of you, right?

“I…” You trail off, second-guessing your decision. Should you really tell your roommate? Seeing the eager look on her face, with her sweet, cute dimples showing up, you decide that people with dimples should be banned from this world. Promptly, you’re reminded of your junior—an alpha with Jungwon or something as his name. The both of them possessed dimples that could make any alpha (or omega) drop down to their knees.

Alas, you force yourself to tell the truth.

“I smelled him for afar.” You watch carefully for Yujin’s reaction. “Like, from outside. While I was running from those scary alphas.”

Yujin contemplates. “Did you feel some kind of a pull towards him?”

You don’t even contemplate. “Yes.” 

“Holy shit,” Yujin laughs, her grin turning giddy. “This shit is actually real?!”

“What is?!” You frown, not liking being kept in the dark. A playful punch lands on Yujin’s shoulder, who’s now throwing her head back in laughter. Unconsciously, a pout is formed on your lips.

“What is it? Tell me!”

“It’s just, there’s this joke going around,” Yujin hiccups between every inhale, “that an omega will eventually crave for his knot. I can’t believe it’s happening to you!”

The lines in your forehead deepen. You regard your roommate with a look of contempt, thinking of the best spot to hide a body.

“That’s not true. I don’t crave his knot, or whatever it is.” You sigh, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose. “You know what? I’m just gonna pretend last night didn’t happen.”

Resigned and defeated, you rise and bring your plate to the sink. Your class doesn’t start until the next three hours, and then the evening is reserved for your new routine practice for the upcoming tournament. The ninety-two unread messages from the group chat are still left unopened; you haven’t had time to review the routine video yet.

You put on your apron and reach for the cabinet. When in distress or deep thoughts, other than nesting in your bedroom, you often opt to stress-bake instead. The scent of baked goods always puts you at ease, and it blends sweetly with your daisies and honey pheromones. Everyone who knows you knows to empty their stomach and be ready for a mass sweet-feeding whenever you’re in your stressed baker mode.

Behind you, Yujin’s laughter dies in her throat. Then, a question that stops you in your tracks comes.

“Hey, you don’t think it’s because you and Heeseung are fated mates, right?”

Fated mates. The words settle like a heavy blanket, pressing you down with its weight and keeping you warm altogether. 

It’s sacred. It’s ancient. It’s something that you never speak of lightly, afraid that a slip of a tongue would taint the purity of such a bond. Against all odds and critiques on the concept of fated mates, you’re part of the minority who believed in it, no matter how foolish or ridiculous it may sound.

You believe in fated mates. You believe in the name written in the stars, in the love that has been shaped and created just to cherish you. You believe in spending the rest of your life looking for a face that your heart would recognise in a heartbeat, feeling that inevitable pull like you’re each other’s missing half.

But after last night, do you think it’s because you and Heeseung are fated mates?

Heeseung, who’s always made it clear to everyone about his relationship with commitments?

Heeseung, who never shies away when the boys tease him about the girls he sleeps with?

You’re never one to judge someone’s sex life, but you might be a little too concerned about how they view a long-term, committed relationship. Because that’s what you’ve been looking for. 

An alpha who’s not afraid to love you loudly. An alpha whose instincts are to love and protect you. 

Sometimes, you really envy mated couples. You envy how loyal Riki is of his girlfriend, craving the same kind of devotion to be directed to you. You envy how proud Taesan is to show off his mating mark, like it’s a badge of honour and love that promises forever.

Eventually, your mind drifts to Heeseung. The captain of the basketball team. Someone who deceives people with how approachable he seems, but is actually the most detached.

Heeseung is a perfect and capable alpha. You’ve seen it.

He leads his team with the kind of leadership that becomes a glue, keeping the team together no matter what challenges they’re going through. You know that he’s from the music department, and there are a few songs with his name being credited as the producer, composer, lyricist—you name it. Heeseung is a dominant alpha and uses his authority well, and he knows how to fend for himself.

You admire him, you really do. 

But will he devote himself to you? Will he look only for you in a crowd of beautiful omegas, and beautiful omegas who have spent the night with him? Does he share the same sentiment as you when it comes to fated mates?

The churn in your stomach provides an answer clearer than any of your exams had ever done.

You let Yujin’s question fade in the background, letting yourself lose in your element—baking and baking and baking until it feels like you could feed a whole team of athletes. Which is what Yujin has suggested before she leaves for her lab session, after saving a big jar of cookies for herself.

Fated mates.

What a scary thought.

For the first time in his life, Heeseung is actively avoiding omegas.

It’s not any omegas, though. It’s only you. But since it’s you, it’s actually a pretty big deal to him. 

Heeseung doesn’t play favourites. He doesn’t believe in fated mates, remember? But last night left a lasting impact in the form of your scent still clinging to him this morning, even after showering.  Not to mention how excited his wolf has been when realising that it’s you. 

It’s you, for fuck’s sake! The one who rejected him one year ago, and, admittedly, one of the prettiest omegas on campus. You might as well be every alpha’s ideal type. Well, maybe not Riki, that man is proudly claimed and fiercely loyal to his mate. But it’s definitely the case for him and Jay. 

Knowing his best friend, Heeseung’s sure you’re just Jay’s type. And his. No. He didn’t say that. He doesn’t have a type, remember?

As if to make it worse, you also have a scent that might just be his favourite one yet. The same scent that is currently invading his senses, dampening other pheromones in the court despite being on opposite ends from you. The same scent that his wolf decides to pick up and single out the moment he steps foot in the campus, recognising you before his eyes can even see you first. The same scent that still lingers in his lungs, mingling with his cinnamon and sea breeze notes like dancing partners. 

Yeah, Heeseung is starting to think that he’s slowly going insane. 

“Dude, stop staring. You’re scaring them.”

Heeseung blinks, Jay’s voice successfully snapping him out of whatever omega-spell that you have casted on him. Yeap, he nods. It’s definitely that. You’re actually a witch. There’s no other explanation to this other than that.

A blob of freshly-dyed blonde hair pops up beside Jay. “Hyung showed up smelling like daisies and honey and suddenly he’s staring at the cheerleaders like they owe him money.” Riki teases, then grins when he realises something. “Wait, that kinda rhymes—”

“I’m not staring!” Heeseung almost shouts, belatedly realising that he, indeed, has been staring at the group of cheerleaders stretching across the court. Or, to be more precise, he’s been staring at you. He glares at Riki.

“Okay. So why do you smell like one of them then? What’s her name again, Jay hyung?”

Heeseung grumbles. “It’s no one—”

“Y/N.” 

“Yes, that one. The shy one.” 

Heeseung groans. He kicks Riki’s shins and makes a show of turning his back facing the cheerleaders. But for some reasons he refuses to admit, as if he has eyes on the back of his head, he still can point where you’re standing just from his senses alone.

These stupid, useless alpha senses.

At least Jay takes pity on him. “Your Heeseung hyung saved her from perverts last night. He scented her to calm her down because she was reacting pretty badly.”

Heeseung mentally thanks Jay and continues warming up. He opts to just watch his teammates dribble and stretch just like him. The faint hum of scent neutraliser—a new, advanced one, thanks to that incident with Riki’s girlfriend—rumbles slowly. Somewhere behind him, he can hear you laugh and taste the sweet spike in your scent on his tongue. Heeseung grits his teeth. 

What is wrong with his wolf? Please get your tail together.

Riki, on the other hand, is intrigued. “Really? Did it happen after I left? Who were those alphas?”

“Some idiots from that team we beat last night.”

Riki frowns, clearly displeased with the news he just heard. “Well, I’ll keep my eyes on them. How did Heeseung hyung find her?”

Jay shrugs and shoots him a look. Heeseung really hopes he can slap that annoying smirk off his face one day. “Dunno. Ask him. His alpha probably recognised her from miles away.”

Heeseung doesn’t like what that sentence implies. “Shut up. It’s just instinct. Normal alpha-omega reaction.”

“Keep lying to yourself. I can practically see your tail wagging when you smelled your pheromones on her just now.”

“I didn’t—” Heeseung closes his eyes, forcing himself to calm down despite the sudden flare of defensiveness exploding in his chest. He doesn’t know why he’s so reactive and not in his usual calm composure, but he’s pretty sure it has something to do with you. Jay and Riki snicker. 

“The only people that believe in fated mates are you two idiots. Do you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” Riki snorts and looks at him, amused. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean I have a fated mate. That shit is rare. It’s like finding my size in Calvin Klein.”

Jay frowns. “I don’t see the correlation.”

“There is. My dick is just too big, hyung. There’s no size for me—”

“I don’t need to know that!” Jay slaps at Riki’s shoulders while the younger alpha only lets out a full-body laugh. “Save that information for your girlfriend, Riki. I didn’t raise you like this.”

“She already knows that.”

“Nishimura Riki!” 

Heeseung is back to zoning out, his energy is suddenly drained out of his soul. That’s usually the case when you have to deal with a Nishimura Riki and a Park Jongseong on a daily basis. His mind, choosing to move at the pace of a snail today, is replaying Riki’s words back like a broken loop.

The realisation hits him five seconds late. “Wait. Did you mean that you and your girlfriend are not…fated mates? I thought you were!”

Riki is trapping Jay in a headlock when he answers. “Nope. We only imprinted on each other from early on because we’re childhood friends.”

“So like…what’s the difference?” Heeseung pauses and hesitates for a moment. He glances at you and then thinks, fuck it. If curiosity didn’t kill the cat then it’ll definitely kill him. “Can you smell your girlfriend in a sea of people?”

Riki scrunches his nose, his hands busy play-fighting with Jay. Heeseung ignores them like it’s a daily occurrence to see them act this way. Which is probably not far from the truth. “Not really? If they’re too many people, like right now, with your stench and too many omega scents—it’s difficult to find her.” Jay tackles his side and Riki yelps. “B-But it’s getting better after the mating bite, though—Jay hyung! I just got my tattoo there!”

“So…you can’t like…” Heeseung licks his lips, his throat suddenly dry. He has a feeling that he’s not going to like the answer Riki’s going to give him once he finishes his sentence. Jay is now on the floor while Riki is pulling him by the legs and dragging him around like a used rug.

“You can’t single her out from her scent alone?”

There. He said it. His two idiotic friends will catch on it and grill him for the problem he partially caused. The other part is, no doubt, his wolf’s fault for deciding to like one single scent. You’re not at fault at all. Never. Wait, who said that?

Riki is breathless from the laughter and play-fight, but he still manages to listen and answer, thanks to his alpha senses. If he finds Heeseung’s questions strange, he only shares his suspicion through a knowing look with Jay.

“Sometimes. Like I said, it’s only when the crowd isn’t too big and when she’s in the same room as me.” Riki finally spares Heeseung a glance, tilting his head in a feigned curiosity. “Why are you asking, hyung? Did you smell Y/N from miles away or something?”

How the fuck did that idiot know?

Heeseung looks away from the teasing grin thrown his way. He really doesn’t like this. “No,” he grumbles. “I’m just afraid if I might be Jay’s fated mate because his pheromones are fucking everywhere.”

“Hey! What the fuck did I do to you?!” 

Riki bursts out laughing and high-fives Heeseung with a cheeky smile. On the floor, Jay is already huffing and sulking, mumbling something about ‘always catching strays’ and ‘citrusy pheromones aren’t smelly’. Heeseung sighs quietly when the topic takes a turn into a debate about who has the best smelling pheromones, which is an easy win for Riki, if Heeseung’s going to be honest. 

Don’t tell Jay though. Heeseung doesn’t want to lose his passenger princess privilege so soon.

Much to his relief, it’s already time for practice. Heeseung tries to ignore the prickle in his neck coming from your direction as you and your fellow cheerleaders leave the gym to go to your own practice room. He fights the urge to look back, to stride forward and ask you to stay—which is insane, by the way, what the fuck is wrong with him?

Before he slips into his captain mode, however, Jay approaches him with a more serious look on his face. “Calm your flat tits, Hee. It’s normal for her scent to linger; you kinda scented her aggressively to protect her last night.”

Heeseung weakly nods. Jay pats his shoulder. “A deep bond can’t be conjured just from scenting alone, unless you’re fated mates.”

This time, Heeseung doesn’t move, his tension visible in the rigid lines of his posture, the frantic movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.

“Yeah,” he croaks, his pulse louder than his own voice. “Hope not.”

Practice goes on for the next two hours. Heeseung eventually falls into routine, finding himself lost in adrenaline and competitiveness. The thoughts of you cease for a moment, replaced by his quick-thinking strategy and sharp reflexes. He keeps dribbling, scoring, and making passes, not even aware of the ticking clock or when the cheerleader squad comes back in to take a break.

The last whistle finally blows before the players dramatically fall in a heap of sweaty, breathless alphas. The practice was particularly grueling, which made his body ache and his shirt clung to his skin. The coach is on fire today, all because his wife has been giving him a silent treatment. Apparently, he forgot to buy diapers on his way home last night.

Source: Nishimura Nosy.

“I think I might die,” Jay huffs, claiming a bench all to himself. His chest rises and falls in a rapid motion. “But even as a ghost, I bet the coach would still unearth my grave to force me to practice.”

“I’ll be Ghost Number Two.” Heeseung deadpans, lying down on the bench next to Jay. The latter continues to talk about something else, which Heeseung would know and remember if he didn’t get distracted by daisies and honey.

Fuck. You’re in the court again.

The urge to corner you, to grab your wrist and ask if you were okay, crawls under his skin again—restless, unrelenting.

Heeseung isn’t stupid. He knows last night, ugly as it was, doesn’t just fade by morning. His alpha has been clawing at him since then, sharp and impatient, demanding he go to you.

But Heeseung doesn’t move.

For once, he’s a coward.

He shoves it down, buries it deep, treating his own wolf like a disease he refuses to catch.

Heeseung blinks at the ceiling in an active effort to not start looking for you and staring at you like a creep. This time, he wonders quietly why your scent smells stronger than before. Perhaps the adrenaline from your routine. But even so, you don’t only smell strong, but you also smell closer—

“Free cookies!”

Heeseung jolts in surprise and whips his head in the direction of that voice. Or, precisely, your voice. His heart, as if trying to shorten his life span, decides not to take a break from the session just now and continues beating even faster.

There, just a few paces away from him, is you, standing in the middle of the court with one of your cheerleader friends. In her hold, there’s a purple Tupperware, its lid nowhere to be found. You stand slightly behind your friend, shyly looking over her shoulders as she talks to his teammates.

“Oh my God, they brought us cookies?!” Jay is already standing up, stretching lazily like a cat. “C’mon, Hee. It’s free cookies.”

Heeseung’s quick to refuse, despite his wolf begging him to go. “Nah—”

But before he can spit out any excuses, Jay is already dragging him, his weeks spent in the gym working out with Riki are finally paying off. “Don’t be ridiculous. Take your portion and give it to me.”

Heeseung groans. He really should start joining their workout session. He can’t be manhandled by his two best friends easily like this.

Distracted, Heeseung fails to register the decreasing distance between you and him. It’s only when your scent spikes sweetly, which hits him in the face like a fucking tidal wave, does he catch your eyes and realises that, fuckfuckfuck she’s here ohmyGod—

“Hi, Jay. Hi, Heeseung.”

Wait hold on, why does his name sound even more beautiful coming from your voice?

He stands like a flag pole beside Jay, actively avoiding your eyes while being fully aware of that pretty pair staring at his face. The floor suddenly looks very interesting, with skid marks from their shoes and some sweat trails. Okay. Ew. That’s gross.

“Hey, pretty ladies.” Jay greets, flashing his attractive smile as he gestures at the container. “Heard there’s free cookies for the taking? Mind if we have some?” 

Smooth as ever, Jay doesn’t even realise how easily he has charmed your friend with his simple greeting. Poor omega is already blinking rapidly, almost bouncing on her toes as she practically shoves the Tupperware into Jay’s chest. 

“Yes! Yes, of course you can, Jay. There’s only little left! Take them all!”

Your eyes, fixated on Heeseung since he arrived, tries to search his face as you shyly interrupt, whispering into your friend’s ear. 

“Offer some to Heeseung too…”

Heeseung doesn’t know whether to curse or thank the Goddess for his advanced dominant-alpha senses, because overhearing those words…it makes his chest feel warm and tight at the same time.

But your friend doesn’t pay you any mind, urging Jay to take the Tupperware from her. Jay, ever the gentleman but still a little shameless shit when it comes to food, takes it from her eager hands. He takes one bite and immediately lights up.

“This is so good! I love that it’s not too sweet.”

Like a mirror reflecting light, you beam widely, returning Jay’s enthusiasm. Heeseung tries to ignore the ugly twist in his chest. “Really? That’s…good to hear.”

“She made these, by the way!” Your friend proudly announces, which makes red blooms across your cheeks, ducking your head down slightly. You’re so shy, so pretty, Heeseung can’t stop staring.

And so good at baking. Such a perfect omega, his wolf continues. Shut the fuck up, Heeseung hisses.

“You’re really good at this, Y/N,” Jay interrupts his internal war, his voice sounding wrong in his ears. “Care to share the recipe?”

Now, is Jay flirting with you? Since when does his voice sound like that?

Heeseung tries to inhale, attempting to calm his fucking irrational wolf down, but all he can smell is the sugary scent of yours, tangling delicately and blending seamlessly with his spicy cinnamon and salty sea breeze. Somewhere in his chest, his heartstrings soften, drunk in the perfect mix of your pheromones, a ghost of a mark from last night. 

Maybe that’s what possessed him to snatch the Tupperware from Jay.

Heeseung wastes no time and starts munching two cookies at once, ignoring the gasps from you and your friend and the bombastic side-eye from his fellow alpha friend. The flavour of buttery vanilla and sweet chocolate chips melt on his tongue and Heeseung almost purrs at the taste.

Outside, he makes an effort to look calm.

“These are good,” he comments coolly, trying to make it sound more like a statement than a compliment (he’s failing). This time, he dares himself to meet your eyes, and has to force down another purr when he sees the sparkles in your eyes. “Thank you, Y/N.”

There’s a strange satisfaction blooming in his chest when the blush in your cheeks deepen. You quickly look down to the floor, mumbling softly that could’ve been missed had it not been for his senses.

What kind of pull is this? Why is every sense of his attuned to you? Heeseung swears he can smell the subtle spike of your scent, the sound of your heartbeat and your soft breathing. It’s like his whole body has decided that it wants to worship you.

And Heeseung doesn’t worship. Fuck. This is terrifying.

“Thank you, Heeseung…”

There. Your voice again. Heeseung swallows. His grip on the Tupperware tightens. Seeing you under this light, flushed and softly smiling to the ground while sneaking glances at him—it undoes him in ways he never dared imagine. 

The question is already at the tip of his tongue without his realisation. ‘Are you okay? Does what happened last night still bother you?’ The urge to comfort and soothe, now growing like a rolling snowball, threatening to spill from his mouth.

And the scary part is: Heeseung isn’t sure if that desire comes from his wolf or himself.

However, he never gets the chance to, because Jay with his perfect, universe-timing is already pulling him backwards. “Thank you for the cookies! We’ll eat them well!”

Heeseung reluctantly nods, the grip he has on the Tupperware turning knuckle-white.

“What the fuck was that?” Jay whisper-yells when they’re out of earshot, walking back to their previous spot. “And those are not only for you. Give them back to me!”

Heeseung dodges his grabby hand. “Why the fuck are you eating more?” He asks, failing to mask the bitterness in his voice.

“Didn’t they give all ten of them to us?”

“You’ve had two.”

“And you’ve had five!”

“I don’t care. These are mine.”

“You are being ridiculous.”

That’s what it takes for Heeseung to freeze in his tracks. Seeing an opening, Jay quickly snatches the Tupperware from his grasp and runs back to his spot on the bench, not forgetting to flip off the burgundy-haired alpha as he does so.

Heeseung is losing his fucking mind.

Sighing, Heeseung closes his eyes, a faint trail of daisies and honey still clinging to his senses. Even across the room, among the murmur of the gossiping cheerleaders, it’s your voice, the only one clear and crisp to his ears. 

I’m being ridiculous.

This isn’t me.

Slowly, his human side starts taking over, all flowery images of you vanish within seconds.

Fuck, he curses. He wishes this scent-marking will be gone by tomorrow morning.

Three mornings later, much to his dismay, your scent still clings to him. On the bright side, it has been notably fading, now only the remnants of daisies and honey underneath cinnamon and sea air; like crunched petals along the shoreline, waiting to be washed away.

Against his own judgment, however, his wolf is fucking devastated.

He’s been whining like a kicked puppy ever since he walked to practice this morning and couldn’t smell his scent on you instantly. He still can spot you from two buildings away, which is still strange, but the lack of spice and salt in your scent is what does it. Heeseung has to fight the urge to march towards you and start scenting you.

His wolf has been restless. And, inevitably, it puts Heeseung in a terrible mood, too. He never knew his wolf was that desperate. 

Practice ends late that night. With the tournament just around the corner, everyone is being a little shit at managing their emotions and competitiveness on the court—the downside of having an all-alpha team that people rarely talk about. 

Heeseung is not excluded from the equation, though. He almost threw the ball to Taesan’s knot and made his omega pups-less and pregnancy-free when he accidentally made a bad pass. The court had smelled like tension and a barely held-together brotherhood when he left before a cheerleader came up to him to flirt and he wasted no time to drag her to an empty classroom.

Now, Heeseung finds himself making out with that omega, tongue licking up into her mouth while she breathlessly moans into his. It’s been five days since his last fuck, and while he usually can go on without sex for weeks (one month was his best record), he’s been at his wit’s end today. Add the confusion and silent wars he’s been having about you into the mix, and Heeseung is nothing more than a stressed body waiting to be relieved.

Weirdly enough, the frustration he hopes to get rid of stays as frustration. The old sparks he usually feels when having this intimate moment with an omega seems to disappear tonight. In the back of his mind, like a looming cloud carrying a storm, is a hazy image of teary eyes and red, trembling lips.

Something stirs uneasily in his chest.

His huge, veiny hands slip under her skirt and find purchase on her cunt, gathering the slick leaking from her arousal. Her scent spikes as she bucks up her hips and, to Heeseung’s own surprise, he recoils from the smell of it and breaks the kiss. The girl doesn’t stop her advances, switching to kiss down his long neck instead.

He subconsciously scrunches up his nose, his finger halting its movement for a second. 

“What perfume are you wearing?” He asks, voice hoarse from the makeout session. He tilts his head back, allowing access and finding stimulation, but the usual thrill is a bit dull tonight.

“My pheromones,” she manages between kisses, “you like it?”

It’s quite the opposite, to be honest. Heeseung finds himself hating it. It’s too sweet. Too sharp. It sits wrong in his nose, burns at the back of his throat, like inhaling smoke for the first time. His eyes water.

There’s something wrong. He’s not enjoying this. 

And to make things worse and more confusing, his chest hurts. It constricts, like his lungs decide to shrink into a ball of unexplained pain. Heeseung’s breath stutters, almost doubling over. His mind is a frantic buzz of noise, chanting something that he can’t seem to fully register yet.

Not my omega. Not daisies. Not honey.

Heeseung feels something twist in his gut.

The nameless omega—he forgot to ask for her name—doesn’t notice the shift yet, the way Heeseung is already a frozen statue of confusion and frustration in her embrace. She continues, trailing down hot, wet kisses along the prominent line of his collarbone and sucks the tender skin. 

“Ow!” Heeseung yelps, instinctively pushing her away. The spot stings like a pulsing heartbeat, void of any pleasure that it usually would give. He staggers backwards once.

The girl frowns, clearly not happy being pushed like that. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

“I—” Heeseung hisses, his shirt sitting wrong on his skin, her scent smelling wrong in his nose. He shakes his head. “Shit. I’m sorry, I—I have somewhere to be.” 

The girl scoffs, disbelieving. “What?! Heeseung, you can’t just—”

But Heeseung can, and he already does. The alpha is out of the room in the next minute, deliberately the calls of his name and the strings of insults that come from behind him. He makes a run for it.

What the fuck did just happen? Heeseung is never one to refuse a good time with omega, but his wolf is quiet tonight. Too quiet, like it’s being silent on purpose in solidarity for something he’s yet to know—or yet to realise. 

The hazy image comes back to his mind, slowly becoming sharp and clear. Heeseung thinks his lungs have turned into bricks when he realises that he’s been imagining you. That his head has been loud with the thoughts of you, even when he’s with someone else.

Why? Why is this happening? Why you?

Heeseung makes a turn to where the locker room is, planning to grab his duffel and leave, when he bumps into Riki and Jay, freshly out of the shower.

“Heeseung hyung?” A shirtless Riki calls his name, then raises a brow when he sees his condition. “Was wondering where you were. But those lipstick stains told me enough.”

Heeseung wipes his neck harshly. Wordlessly, he yanks his locker open and checks himself out in a mirror. He turns his face left and right, yanking down his under eyes, then sighs. Riki and Jay exchange looks. The air is slowly thickening with the pheromones of a distressed alpha, coming from none other than Heeseung.

“You good, mate?” Jay decides to ask him. Heeseung doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he’s as good as he wants himself to be. The alpha lets out another sigh and slams the door closed.

“I think something is definitely wrong with me.”

“Is it practice?” Jay softens his voice, already switching on his therapist-friend mode. “Hee, today’s just that day. Everybody was losing their shits, it’s not just you.”

Heeseung leans his back on the locker and tilts his head upwards. “It’s not that. I mean it biologically. Ever since—” Heeseung pauses, suddenly unsure if saying out loud would make things right. But Riki and Jay have already caught onto it.

“Ever since what?”

Heeseung chooses to deflect. “Look, I was trying to make out with this one pretty omega just now. But no matter how much kissing we did, I just couldn’t enjoy it.” Heeseung points to his sweatpants. Riki and Jay curiously follow with their eyes. “She was practically sucking my tongue and I’m not even bricked up, man!”

Riki furrows his eyebrows. “Not even a spark?”

Heeseung shakes his head. “I couldn’t feel anything. At all. Only,” he swallows harshly. “I only felt disgusted. By her.”

Silence hangs in the room at his revelation. Riki’s expression morphs into something akin to genuine surprise, while Jay only stares at him with a gaping mouth before he starts typing on his phone.

“This is dead serious. You can’t have sex without your dick. That's like a banana cake without bananas.”

Heeseung and Riki grimace. “Please don’t ever compare my dick to a banana again.”

“Or a banana cake.” Riki slaps his shoulder. “That’s my favourite, hyung. Don’t be gross.”

Jay waves a dismissive hand, eyes still glued on his phone. “Right, right. Anyway, I texted Sunoo.”

Heeseung’s eyes go wide like saucer plates at the name and groans. “Sunoo?! Jay, you know he’s still mad at me.”

“I know, but he’s the only one who probably knows the answer to this.” Jay smacks his lips when he reads a new text from Sunoo. “He’s staying back for a lab session. Let’s go to the medicine building.”

And that’s how Heeseung finds himself cramped into a tiny booth of a ramyeon stall, located by the road near the faculty of medicine. A pouty Sunoo is sitting across from him, shooting him his foxy side-eyes as he whines at Jay.

“Jay hyung, why did you bring this traitor with you?” Sunoo pulls at the sleeves of Jay’s hoodie, sulking away from Heeseung. It’s only the three of them since Riki had gone home with his girlfriend just now. “I thought the three of us would include you, me, and Riki.”

Jay sighs exasperatedly. “I had to, Sunoo. That traitor is having a critical dick malfunction and he needs your help.”

The waitress arrives with three bowls of steaming ramyeon. Jay and Sunoo pause their not-so-quiet argument and help her place the bowls on their table. She clears her throat awkwardly, and takes a quick glance at Heeseung before leaving. Heeseung groans internally.

Great. Now words about him and his dick problem will spread around the campus.

“Is STD finally catching up with you?” 

Heeseung should know that it was never that easy to get Sunoo off his back. That boy is a professional pouty sulk-er, he’ll never let Heeseung go easily. Not after harassing him with his sass, at least. Heeseung holds back a sigh, already resigned and defeated.

With a grim voice, he apologises to the brown-haired alpha. For the fifth time. 

“Sunoo, I am so sorry. I know it was my fault, but for the record, I didn’t know you were serious about pretending to be an omega. Why would you even do that, anyway?”

“Because I like the attention!” Sunoo is fast to defend himself, his pout only deepening. “And because alphas will only spoil me if I was their pretty little soft omega—which I am not! And you exposing my secondary gender to that alpha just ruined my chance to be with him. Who would even call their friend, ‘my cutie little fake omega’, anyway?!”

“I was drunk!”

“A drunk traitor is still a traitor!”

Heeseung turns to Jay, sending him signals to help him out. But his best friend deliberately ignores him, too engrossed in his own bowl, pretending to be a wall. Heeseung rolls his eyes and looks back at Sunoo.

It might not be that easy to console the sulky boy, but Heeseung is labelled a sweet talker for a reason.

“You’re already a pretty alpha, Sunoo. Prettier than any omega I know. Anyone would drop everything for you even if they knew you weren’t an omega.”

Like a switch being flipped, the frown on Sunoo’s melts away, replaced by a beam so wide it shows off his perfect teeth.

“Aw, Heeseungie hyung. You’re now forgiven. Now tell me about this dick problem of yours.”

Jay and Heeseung look at each other and relax into their chairs in relief. Heeseung sends him a look of, ‘That was easy,’ to which Jay raises his eyebrow, ‘Why hadn’t you done it sooner?’

Now, with Sunoo not threatening to kill the burgundy-haired alpha anymore, Heeseung can finally enjoy a few bites of his untouched ramyeon. It’s already a bit cold and soggy, but the broth makes up for it. He retells the story to Sunoo between bites, watching the ever expressive boy react to it with various expressions.

“It’s not uncommon, though. But since it’s you, it must have felt very concerning.” Sunoo hums in thought, tapping his full lips with the thinnest tips of his chopsticks. “Well, Heeseungie hyung, did you imprint on any omegas?”

Heeseung hesitates for a moment before he shakes his head, feeling Jay’s eyes on him.

“No.”

“Hm, okay. Even if it’s due to imprints, it has to come from both sides,” Sunoo rubs his chin, now looking every bit a live action of Detective Conan, minus the glasses. “Did you conjure a bond with anyone? Maybe accidentally?”

Heeseung’s lips part. “I…would’ve known, right?”

“Right.” Sunoo nods firmly, then tilts his head. “Did you scent one of your hookups, then?”

“An almost-hookup,” Jay cuts in, clearly enjoying this interrogation. Heeseung shoots him a look. Jay is always out to rat him out and he’s actually so close to disowning him.

He grunts. “Just…someone.”

Sunoo smiles in amusement. “So you did scent someone. Was it someone you like?”

“Define like.”

“Like them enough to want to kiss them. Like them enough to want to fuck them. Like them enough to even want to scent them to begin with.” Sunoo shrugs. “Pick one.”

Heeseung closes his eyes. Does he like you? Wanting to kiss and fuck someone don’t equal to liking them. Because if that was true, then there’s no other explanation to Heeseung ‘liking’ every omega he has fucked other than him having an insanely big heart—which he doesn’t. He liked the sex and their company; that was all there was to it.

Which leaves him option number three. 

Heeseung’s never the guy to sit with his feelings—at least not the romantic kind. You’re an unfamiliar territory; something that he deliberately avoids his entire life, simply because he never sees settling down with a mate as a desirable goal or accomplishment. And, perfectly hidden under his fuckboy persona is also a thin layer of fear.

Fear of getting hurt by the thing that’s supposed to be love.

But does he like you?

Maybe he does. He’s always liked the way you laugh; you always cover your mouth with one hand when you do, like your smile is only visible in the privacy of those who really know you. He’s always noticed the way you touch the tip of your nose when people’s eyes are on you. He’s always thought the natural blush that you have when you’re shy is adorable.

In that one single minute, Heeseung realises that he’s been paying attention to you more than he thought he did.

Fuck. He does like you.

But does liking have to lead to being mated?

That responsibility is way taller and heavier than him and Heeseung is beyond freaked out.

“Earth to Heeseungie hyung?”

“Why does it even matter? What does it even have to do with me not getting a boner during a makeout session?” Heeseung demands, frustration bleeding into his voice. Is Sunoo punishing him for being the reason he fumbled that tall, hot alpha two weeks ago? Will Sunoo truly ever forgive him? He already apologised five times!

Sunoo, seeing enough of his hyung’s suffering, finally relents. “Geez, relax. I wasn’t playing with you. I asked because most of the time this happens,” he gestures at Heeseung and his crotch. Heeseung instinctively closes his long legs. “It’s because the wolf has already liked one omega. An omega they recognise as their mate. It’s the only explanation why you felt disgusted just now.”

Mate. That cursed word again. Beside Sunoo, Jay is whistling.

“Sorry. You mean my wolf, my alpha, likes one omega and decides I shouldn’t fuck around anymore?”

Sunoo nods. “Basically, yeah. But it usually isn’t that easy, hyung. A bond has to have been conjured between your wolf and their wolf by any kind of markings.”

“Like?”

“Like biting. Or scenting.”

Scenting. Heeseung didn’t just do scenting with you, he was scent-marking you.

“But that’s impossible,” Jay interrupts, confusion etching onto his handsome features. His leaning forward now, his empty bowl pushed to the center of the table, which reminds Heeseung of his own bowl. The alpha quickly finishes his noodles. “Scenting between unmated alpha and unmated omega will only conjure a temporary, fragile bond. It should’ve been gone by now—the scenting happened five days ago.”

“Are you sure about that? Because I can detect some floral scent in Heeseungie hyung’s pheromones.”

Heeseung almost chokes on his noodles. “You do?”

Sunoo leans forward, squinting his eyes at him like he’s some kind of lab specimen. “Yeah. It’s faint, but it’s there. Sweet. Floral. Clingy.” He tilts his head again. “It’s weird.”

Across from him, Heeseung is frozen. His grip on the chopsticks tightens. He swallows harshly.

“That’s not supposed to happen…right?”

“Exactly,” Sunoo points at him. “That’s why I’m saying it’s weird.”

Jay leans back, arms crossed. “But if it’s still there after five days—”

“It doesn’t automatically mean fated mates,” Sunoo cuts in quickly, tone sharper this time. He shoots Jay a look before turning back to Heeseung. “Don’t jump to that conclusion. That’s, like, extremely rare. And also very dramatic.”

Heeseung exhales, shoulders dropping just a little.

Right. Dramatic. His alpha begs to differ.

“It could just be a stronger-than-usual temporary bond,” Sunoo continues, more thoughtful now. “Maybe your alpha overdid it when you scented them. Or the omega was in a heightened emotional state, so the bond lasted longer.”

Jay hums, not entirely convinced.

“But the whole not getting turned on thing?” He gestures vaguely. “That still doesn’t explain it fully.”

Sunoo taps his chin again. “Mhm. That part’s interesting.” He levels Heeseung with a curious look. “Who is this girl, anyway? You seem pretty fucked over her.”

Heeseung groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Can you not say it like that? Like I’m some kind of a broken alpha?”

“You kinda are right now,” Sunoo says bluntly.

“Sunoo.”

“I’m serious!” He leans forward again, eyes lighting up. “Your body is rejecting other omegas. That’s not normal for you. Like, at all.”

Heeseung slumps deeper into his seat. As if it’s not already obvious enough, Sunoo just had to spell it out loud.

“I noticed,” he mutters, defeated.

Sunoo softens slightly at that, sighing as he rests his chin on his palm. “Okay. Look. Don’t panic yet.”

“I’m not panicking.”

“You’re literally here because your dick stopped working.”

“…Okay, I’m a little panicked.”

Sunoo waves his chopsticks dismissively. “It’s probably not fated mates. If it were, you’d be way worse right now.”

Heeseung stills. “Worse?”

“Yeah,” Sunoo shrugs. “You’d be obsessing. Unable to stay away. Your senses would go crazy. You’d feel everything they feel, more or less.”

Jay slowly turns to look at Heeseung. Heeseung immediately avoids his gaze. That fucker is always eager to catch his ‘Gotcha!’ moment, it irritates him to the core.

“That doesn’t sound like me,” he says a bit too quickly, the lie tasting acidic on his tongue.

Sunoo mustn't know about the knot of uneasiness in his chest. Sunoo mustn’t know about the face that comes to his mind when he’s kissing someone else. None of his friends must know that he’s obsessing right now, itching to flee and find you in the middle of the night.

“Exactly,” Sunoo nods, unaware of his friend’s turmoil. “So relax. I’ll look into it more, yeah? Might be some weird hormonal response or delayed imprint reaction.”

Heeseung lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “Yeah, okay.”

“Or you can do a try-and-error,” Sunoo suggests, reaching over to pat Heeseung’s shoulder. “Just do what you always do—try hooking up with different omegas. Maybe the one you made out with tonight was just a bad compatibility for you.”

Heeseung perks up at that. Sunoo and Jay, not noticing the shift in the air, are already moving forward with a different topic, completely oblivious to the newly-lit determination now burning up his body.

Just do what you always do.

Right. Heeseung has a high body count for a reason. He decides, with a final resolution, that he should solve this his own way.

If Heeseung spends every night for the next two weeks trying to bed different omegas, Sunoo and Jay don’t have to know.

If Heeseung fails each time, unable to enjoy every kiss and friction, Sunoo and Jay don't have to know.

If the pain in his chest worsens every time he leaves the barely-warm beds, Sunoo and Jay don’t have to know.

If Heeseung avoids looking at you, avoids bumping into you, avoids speaking to you—he hopes you don’t know about it.

A quiet voice from his wolf whispers something that he refuses to acknowledge: He hopes you’ll forgive him for being unfaithful.

You’ve been sick for two weeks. 

At first it was subtle, like a faint throb in your heart that makes you stop whatever you’re doing. The first time it happened, you were in the middle of a group discussion for an elective subject. 

A quiet alpha, or a wolf hybrid named Sunghoon, to be exact, had noticed the way you winced from the pain. He didn’t say anything, but you guessed he told an omega about what he saw because right before you exited the library, one of the girls had passed you a free menstrual pad.

He thought you were experiencing period cramps. You wished it was just period cramps.

Then, it gradually grew to something worse. A sudden stabbing pain in your chest. A twist in your gut, like you were expecting something bad to happen. Sometimes it was random palpitations, where your heart was skipping huge beats, as if you were about to go down on a roller coaster.

Each time it happened, you only placed your palm over your heart, hoping it’d go away. You never understood why, but those pains only came at night, preventing you from getting any good sleep and rest. And each time you tried to close your eyes, there was only one face flashing behind your eyelids.

Heeseung.

Yujin had dragged you to the clinic, but the doctor came to a conclusion that you were just having pre-heat symptoms—which couldn’t be further from the truth, because you just had your cycle one month ago. You’re not supposed to go on your quarterly-cycle of torture for another two months.

“Oh my Goddess, you’re burning up.” Yujin’s palm is cold against your forehead. Her face is pulled into a tight expression. “Let’s just skip today’s classes, okay? I’ll stay with you.”

You weakly nod, barely registering Yujin’s movement around the room. Your body feels like a furnace, the heat simmering in your veins almost rivaling a volcano’s lava. You discard the blanket to get some sort of relief, only to shiver in the cold when the air touches your skin.

After a few minutes of exiting and entering your room, Yujin finally sits by your bed. She helps you with a glass of water and a dosage of paracetamol, careful to wipe any loose drops like a concerned mother. It doesn’t get better, but at least your throat doesn’t feel like it’s being scrubbed with sandpaper anymore.

“How’re you feeling now?”

“Dying, but a bit less dramatic.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want to give Suho from True Beauty a run for his money, would we?”

You chuckle softly, though it sounds more like a seal with a sore throat.

“But seriously, though. It’s been two weeks.” Yujin purses her lips, the worriness still marring her beautiful face. “I’m so worried, Y/N. What’s happening to you?”

You don’t answer right away. “It’s my omega.”

Yujin’s eyebrow jumps. “What about her?”

You also wonder the same thing. Swallowing, you finally let your friend in on the torturous days you have been going through. “One night, after our practice ran quite late two weeks ago, she went a bit hysteric. I couldn’t stop vomiting.” You recalled, eyes distant in memory. “She kept yelling something about a traitor, about rejection. I don’t know, really. But that’s how it started.”

“Two weeks ago, at night, you say?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Yujin is quiet for a few extended minutes, caressing her thumb over your knuckles. The motion puts you at ease, and slowly, you feel the pills begin working their chemicals.

“Did you, perhaps, hear about anything that happened that night?” You shake your head, unsure if your cheerleader squad had mentioned anything. Yujin hums. “Because I think I did.”

“What?”

“So I’m friends with this one omega named Sunoo from my faculty. A pretty boy and a petty gossiper.” Yujin starts, now treading her words slowly as if walking on eggshells. “He knows everyone on this campus. Especially the hot stuff, you know—student body, athletes, cheerleaders.” Yujin eyes you but not unkindly. “He knows you too. Just the basic stuff.”

“Like?”

“Your name, your major, your Instagram account.”

You let out a breath, a bit unsure where this is heading, but listen anyway. “Okay.”

“And because of his impeccable knowledge of gossip, I heard from him about a cheerleader breaking down in the group chat after a certain alpha left her mid-making out, all slicked and horny while he didn’t even pop a borner.”

You hold onto her every word, but for some reason, a dread has settled deep in your bones, like your body is already anticipating some bad news. Your heart, previously beating fast, is now sprinting like it might escape your rib now.

“And that alpha was Heeseung.”

It hits before you can even think.

A sharp, twisting pain lances through your chest, knocking the air out of your lungs like you’ve been struck. Your fingers curl into the sheets, clutching at nothing.

Your omega whines—hurt, betrayed. And suddenly, you understand why. The cries about betrayal. His face haunts you every night, like a painful reminder of the destiny you're subjected to.

You try to swallow once, then twice, before you find your voice back.

“Heeseung?” You try. His name now tastes bitter on your tongue.

Yujin, ever the empathetic, senses it, and tightens her hold on your hand. “Yeah,” she nods. She lets a moment of quiet pass, fidgeting and swallowing like you. Like the news has more stories that she’s yet to tell; an extended part to a nightmare that’s been keeping you up at night. You brace yourself.

“And two nights ago I saw him at Jake’s frat party with a girl. Doing sexy stuff. The usual.” Yujin can’t look at your face, choosing to stare at your intertwined hands instead. “The frat boys told me that he’s been at it almost every night. For two weeks.”

Is it possible to hurt someone this much in a span of five minutes? Getting shot multiple times would’ve hurt less than this.

There’s a heavy silence, then there’s your small, quiet voice, laced with unfiltered hurt.

“What does this have to do with me?”

“I’m saying, Y/N, that you might be facing bond rejection symptoms right now.” Yujin licks her lips. “I’m saying that you and Heeseung just might be fated mates. That night he scented you? You guys conjured a half-bond. And him fucking around with other omegas like this hurts your wolf because she knows—only this kind of bond can do that.”

Is having a fated mate supposed to hurt like this? Like your chest is caving in, collapsing under the torment of unwanted love. Can you even call it love? Whatever it is that you and Heeseung unknowingly have been sharing—Is it even love?

It’s not. It’s just…fate.

You shake your head. There’s hot pain behind your eyes, a sign of an impending doom. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s okay. It’s a lot to take in.”

A drop of tears rolls down your face and in the next blink, everything is already blurry. “I—I think I already knew it.” Your voice is wet from despair, the pain almost feels tangible.  “He never meets my eyes anymore and—and every time I see him, I feel like I might die.”

A warm pair of arms pulls you close, and instantly the scent of green tea fills up your senses. Your roommate holds you tight, letting you rest your head in the crook of her neck as you sob into her chest. 

Your wolf, the contradict that she is, hopes that it was Heeseung embracing you. Still hoping it was the alpha comforting you, soothing you with his voice and that calming pheromones of his. Still foolishly longing for him despite everything.

You feel pathetic.

Your crying subsides after a while, still curling up against Yujin like a hurt puppy. You’re already losing track of time, if it’s still proper to have breakfast or if it’s already time for lunch. It is Yujin who finally speaks first.

“Do you hate it?”

You let the question linger in the air, turning it over in your thoughts like what you’ve been doing the past hour since you woke up. “I don’t hate the bond. Nor him.”

You pause, gnawing at your lower lip. Then you exhale.

“I just hate that I was never given a chance to do this properly.”

Yujin pulls away and makes you face her. She wipes your tears using her sleeves, murmuring sweet words as you feel your chest slightly loosening at her kind gesture. “You might still have it. Go and talk to him, Y/N. If he’s avoiding you like this, he might’ve felt something too, right?”

“If he’s avoiding me like this, he might just not want anything to do with me.” A humourless chuckle escapes your lips. “And to think that I thought I had a chance.”

“Wait, I never asked you this. Do you like Heeseung? Both of you; your wolf and you.”

You don’t answer right away. The question sits between the two of you, heavy and fragile; like a mark refusing to be looked over. 

Do you like Heeseung?

Your wolf stirs immediately. Yes, I like him.

The answer is quick. Certain. Definite. 

But you purse your lips, forcing yourself to think harder, deeper. Forcing yourself to think about you, not her. You can only come to one conclusion.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, honest. It sounds weak even to your ears. Beside you, Yujin keeps rubbing small, grounding circles over your hand.

“I already know my omega likes him,” you admit softly. “She decided that the moment he stayed and took care of me that night.”

Oh, how pathetic is it to fall for someone for doing something as mundane as staying and taking care of you?

It’s laughable. But it makes your chest ache even more, like your heart was an empty can and fate was crushing it with its tight grip.

“But me…” you continue, voice quieter now, “I don’t even know him like that.”

You shake your head, frustration flickering through your expression.

“I don’t know what he’s like when he’s not surrounded by people, or when he’s not—” you gesture vaguely, like you can scoop up every rumour tied to his name. “That version of him everyone talks about.”

You stare at your hands. “But I wanted to.”

Yujin follows, voice soft. “Wanted to?”

“I wanted to get to know him,” you continue, voice trembling. “When I first found out how my wolf feels for him, I thought it could be like how I’ve always imagined having a fated mate would be: slowly falling in love with them. With him.”

A wistful smile graces your beautiful features, soft and vulnerable. “I wanted to know which game he remembers the most. I wanted to know if the number on his jersey means anything. Silly things like that. Not this.”

Your hand moves to your chest unconsciously, rubbing the surface softly.

“Not like this. Not when it hurts every time I—” you cut yourself off, breath shaking. “Not when it hurts every time I look at him.”

You still remember, after one grueling routine, when the pain was still kind enough to let you come to practice. The players had just finished their practice too, slicked with sweat and looking exhausted as ever. Among the tired alphas, your eyes locked onto Heeseung’s.

You had the instincts to go to him and pass him the cold mineral you’d unknowingly saved for him. But the look in his eyes—it was unreadable. Cold. An abyss that was enough to make you stay rooted in your place.

Then, without even a graze of a smile, he looked away, taking a bottle from Riki’s hand.

It had hurt more than you’d like to admit.

“I think…” you try again, more carefully this time. “If things were different, I would’ve liked him.”

Your throat tightens. This time, you’re reminded of that night before everything turned cruel like this. The warmth of his embrace that lingered. The spice of his scent that clung. The safety of his company that comforted you. 

Was any of it real?

“And if things were the same…I think I would've still liked him anyway.”

That’s the truth. A quiet, terrifying truth that settles deep in your chest like an unshakeable ground. The kind of truth that makes even your most grounding friend sit still in your bed.

“And that’s what makes it worse,” you whisper.

Because now it’s not just your omega.

It’s you, too.

The one-week intervarsity basketball tournament has finally begun. Around seven universities have sent their representatives, leading to a flood of humans in different-coloured jerseys wandering around on your campus, its official host. 

You’re excused from the whole week’s classes, seeing your cheerleaders and bunches of alphas more than you have ever seen your classmates since the tournament started. It was exciting at first, to participate in such a prestigious tournament that is always the talk of town. But the tight schedules between games is becoming more taxing and demanding.

It doesn’t help that the bond rejection symptoms have only gotten worse, hindering you from giving your best potential at each routine. Which, of course, catches the attention of your captain, and she’s not very amused with it.

“Y/N. If you’re not telling me what is wrong with you, then don’t make me find excuses to put you on the bleachers.” Narin once whispered to you on the third day of the tournament. You merely nodded, trying hard not to scrunch your noise at the sour smell of bubblegum and burnt cotton candy. She eyed you up and down, before she scoffed.

“Don’t get too butt-hurt that Heeseung’s fucking other cheerleaders,” she grunted. You froze. “At least you got your round that night. He fucking rejected me.”

What? The confusion must be clear on your face, because then Narin rolled her eyes, fixing the blue ribbon in her hair before she turned to face you.

“You smelled like him for weeks, Y/N. Don’t think people didn’t know that you two fucked after they won against that eastern university that night.” And then she left, leaving a dumbfounded you in the hallway, standing still like a lifeless statue.

Realisation starts settling in. Did people think you and Heeseung—fuck. You should’ve known.

No wonder many eyes were on you during those days when you still smelled like Heeseung.  You thought it was just because Heeseung was one of the most sought after alphas on campus. Not this. Not whatever allegation this is.

Still, the bomb Narin had dropped wasn’t enough to stop yourself from pushing yourself past your limits. You don’t even know what your limits are anymore. They seem to keep expanding with every new pain that blooms in your chest. 

You’re still a bit sluggish, but at least Narin is off your back. Whatever bitterness she harbours for you, though not forgotten, is at least tamed on the last day of the tournament.

You knew she wouldn’t understand, but you couldn’t help it if the pain worsens. You wish, for once, that Heeseung would take it slow with the cheerleaders from the opposing teams. Because the pain has become unbearable; cracks turning into holes of emptiness in your heart, faint pulsing turning into straight-up invisible stabbing in your gut. You’re actually surprised that you’re not already bleeding from how real it has felt.

However, deep down, there’s a small, barely-there gratitude for Heeseung for not doing it in front of you. At least you can spare yourself from whatever possible torment this fate has destined for you to face if you had to watch Heeseung fucking another omega in the empty locker room.

But you guess it’s time you finally, actually reach your limit, and your body can’t seem to be more dramatic to choose the last game as its last straw. As Heeseung hoops in the last score for the team, sealing their title as the champion, the audience erupts into the loudest cheer you’ve ever heard. You quickly get to your feet to perform the celebratory routine, but the world is spinning and your head is light when you stand up. You stagger backwards.

“Oh my Goddess, are you alright?” One of your cheerleader friends catches you in her arms, shaking you out of your pained daze. 

“I…” you cough, your voice only scratching at your throat. “I just need to. Sit. Yeah. I need to sit down and talk to Heeseung.”

“Heeseung?” The girl, who you finally recognise as Rei, looks over at the center of the court, where almost the whole school is hooting and hollering in joy. “Wait—let me sit you down first. You’re pale as hell, damn.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you’re finally seated. Rei has passed you a bottle of mineral water and fans you with her pink hand-fan. She stays by your side, looking after you as the rest of the world celebrates the first champion of your university team. You’re painfully grateful to her for it.

“Hey. Can I call one of your friends? Or maybe, do you have an alpha I can contact?” Rei starts when you’re not speaking, too focused on not focusing on the pain to remember to talk. “You asked for Heeseung just now. Is he your alpha?”

Is he?

You wish you knew the answer to that too.

Instead, you shake your head. “He’s not my alpha. I just…need to have a few words with him.”

Rei purses her lips, clearly not pleased with your priority at the moment but obliges anyway. “Alright. Let me text my cousin real quick.” She says, already rummaging inside her bag for her phone.

Her statement intrigues you. “Cousin?”

“Nishimura Riki. And he’s not replying. Gimme a sec.” You watch as Rei presses the call button on her phone and puts the device over her ear. You follow her line of sight as she turns to look at the court again. The crowd hasn’t calmed down from the high of the win yet.

“Hello, adopted fuck. I need you to read my text ASAP—Nobody’s stealing your girlfriend, Riki! You can go back to kissing her face after you read my text—Okay, okay! My friend, Y/N, needs to talk to Heeseung. President-level urgent.” Rei pauses, taking a quick look at you before she continues. “Yes. It seems very important. Just get his ass here fast. Yeah—Congrats, by the way. I’m not buying you that Chrome Hearts chain. Bye.”

Rei sighs as she pockets her phone. “Heeseung will be here in five minutes. You good? Do you still need anything? I feel like I should call someone else. You’re friends with Ahn Yujin, aren’t you?” She rambles on. For someone who barely speaks to you, Rei sure is a caring omega.

You give her a small smile.”I’m alright, Rei. I’ll rest after seeing him.”

Rei hums, checking her phone when it vibrates. “Aight, if you say so. I’ll be around here until they move to celebrate at Jake’s frat tonight.” She gathers her stuff and stands up, brushing her pleated skirt with practiced elegance that you know is instilled in every cheerleader’s demeanour.

“You take care of yourself. And I better not see you at the party.”

“Thank you, Rei.” You wave at her and watch as the lines of her frame get smaller, disappearing into the crowd. 

Now alone, the weight of reality is finally hitting you square in the chest. You curse, pulling your hair when you realise your stupid, impulsive decision, made in the whim of desperation to get the pain go away.

“This is stupid,” you whisper. Without thinking further, you grab your bag and stand to leave. But before you can flee the scene, a heavy presence with the familiar scent of spicy cinnamon and salty sea breeze drifts into your senses.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name leaving his lips has locked you in place. The haunting familiarity of his voice, one that follows you into your restless sleeps and every waking hour, engulfs you almost like the night he held you in his arms.

Except this time, there’s a piercing pain in your heart that comes with his presence. A dull, throbbing ache that’s been a constant company to you, manifested into the shape of the man that your wolf yearns for.

Lee Heeseung.

“Y/N?” He repeats, but you don’t dare to face him just yet. “Riki said you wanted to, uh, talk to me.”

Licking your dry lips, you turn to Heeseung, and the sight has almost rendered you breathless.

Heeseung’s still wearing his jersey, standing tall to his height like he’s dominating the air around him. His burgundy hair looks softer under the light, some small strands sticking to his forehead from sweat. His shoulders are squared up, still lined with pride and the high from winning the tournament. He looks at you calmly, but the edges of his eyes are somewhat gentler; if the lights weren’t tricking your eyes.

You gulp, already losing the battle before it has even started. Why does he have to look so handsome?

You force yourself to say something. “Yeah. I did. I mean, I do. It’s important. I think.”

Heeseung is patient. If your nervousness is something unusual to him, he doesn’t comment on it. After all, you’re indeed known as a shy girl among the cheerleaders.

“I’m…I’m going straight to the point and be honest with you.” Is this really happening? You’re scared that if you were to speak more, your heart might leap out of your mouth from how hard it is pumping behind your ribs. You hold your bag tighter, trying to ground yourself.

“I’m listening,” he hums.

The words are simple. His voice is calm. Too calm, like he’s unaffected, like he doesn’t have a clue about what you’re about to say. It almost makes you falter.

For a second, you just stare at him. At the same face your mind has been haunted for weeks, at the same eyes you’ve been avoiding because they make everything feel too real.

Except everything is actually real. You’re just not ready to admit it yet.

Your fingers curl tighter around your bag.

“Did you…feel anything?” you ask, voice smaller than you intended. “That night.”

Heeseung’s brows pull together, confused. “What do you mean?”

Your throat burns. Stop. Turn around. Leave. 

“When you helped me,” you stubbornly continue, ignoring the self-preservation act your wolf’s pulling. “When you scented me. Did you feel something? Anything?”

There’s a shift in the air. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Heeseung’s shoulders stiffen. His jaw tightens a fraction. A flash of something that leaves your heart hopeful crosses his face, but it leaves as soon as it comes.

“I was just helping you,” he finally says, almost too quickly. “You were in a bad state.”

The ache in your chest pulses, turning alive with each passing second.

“I know that,” you nod, almost too fast, the throbbing in your head comes back. The headache is well-guaranteed after this, you’re sure of it. “I know. I’m not saying you did anything wrong. I just—I just need to know if you felt it too.”

“Felt what?”

You stare at him. God, he’s really making you say it. Is he truly clueless or is he playing with you? Whatever he is trying to do, he’s succeeding at making you feel smaller and…desperate.

“The pull,” you whisper after a while, “the connection.”

Silent stretches between the two of you. Heeseung returns your gaze, but his black eyes reveal nothing about his thoughts. 

You try again. “You felt it too…right?”

There it is. For a fleeting second, you think you see it. That flicker in his eyes. The subtle hesitation. The twitch in his jaw. It almost makes you feel hopeful.

Heeseung exhales through his nose, running a hand through his hair.

“Y/N,” he starts slower this time, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “There’s no such thing as that.”

If your heart was made of lead, you’re sure it’d clang to the floor so loud for how fast it drops.

“What?”

“Fated mates. Bond. Whatever you’re thinking.” He shakes his head, like he’s making a show of how ridiculous you sound. “That’s not real.”

The cracks finally shatter, allowing a big, gaping hole filled with utter anguish to take place in where your heart used to reside. Your mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens. 

“But—” you try, voice undeniably trembling now. “Then, what is this?”

Your hand presses weakly against your chest.

“Why does it hurt like this? Why does,” your voice cracks, your omega thrashing wildly inside you, “why does it hurt so much?”

For a split second, panic flashes across his face. There’s a change in his scent. A sharp, biting spice that’s stinging your nose and thick, briny salt that leaves your throat itchy. 

Because he knows. He knows this isn’t normal. He knows how he almost went psychosis the moment it happened to him three weeks ago. 

But Heeseung’s always been good at leaving—it’s the one thing that’s been keeping his heart in a safe chest without any chances of getting hurt. It’s almost cruel that he never really cares if leaving right after sex would hurt any of the omegas, but he’s never felt bad enough to stop.

And you feel like someone who will make him stay.

So he does what he knows best.

“It’s in your head,” he says, firmer now. “Probably just your heat cycle messing with you. Or stress.”

The moment those words leave his mouth, your chest feels hollow. Your omega, previously hysterical and angry, is now awfully quiet and wounded.

Right. It’s just stress, he said.

You wish it was just stress.

“Oh,” is the only word you can utter. Heeseung nods, as if convincing himself too, and takes a step back.

But for you, it feels too much like a line being drawn.

“Maybe you should get some rest. You look kind of pale,” he suggests, though his voice is slowly getting small the longer he watches the changes in your expression. You’re not looking at him now, just staring at your feet with trembling fists.

The wilting flowers are back in his senses, filling up his nose and beating at his heart like a bat. Heeseung bites his lips, swallowing down the guilt. 

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

The sight of his retreating back…why is it so blurry?

“You are so fucking stupid, Heeseung.”

Heeseung’s always wondered how his best friend’s citrusy pheromones are going to smell like when he’s mad. Because Jay never gets mad at him. His friend has so much patience that every playful banter always stays as just a playful banter.

But tonight, Heeseung finally senses it. Jay smells bitter, like overripe lemon left too long in hot water. There’s a sharp, metallic tang to it too, representing the control that he’s trying so hard to keep in check. In response to the alpha’s irritated scent, Heeseung’s dominant wolf is itching to draw his claws out, sensing it as a threat.

They’re standing at the backyard of the frat house, where the pool is glowing blue and the night sky is blinking stars. It’s quieter here, with less people hanging around. Many guests have preferred to dance inside, still in celebration mode post-winning.

“What the fuck were you thinking, trying to get into someone else’s pants right after her—her confession?” Jay scoffs in disbelief. He has his back facing Heeseung, the tense muscle of his shoulders visible through the outline of his Polo shirt. 

Heeseung, on the other hand, looks more disheveled. The collar of his shirt is misplaced, and there are faint lipstick marks staining his neck and the corner of his mouth. Jay had heard from Riki about what happened between Heeseung and you and the alpha was determined to drag Heeseung out of the bedroom, not before muttering a small apology to the omega he was with. It was all shouts and aggressive whispers between the two alphas until Riki managed to shoo them out.

Which brings them to this moment, where Jay is a ticking bomb and Heeseung is trying his best to calm down.  Jay didn’t exactly know who she was, just that he’d seen her face among the cheerleaders. While Heeseung, well, he’s too worked up to explain.

“Confession? What made you think—”

“You guys are fated mates, Heeseung. Can’t you fucking see it?” Jay whips his head around. “This pull you’re feeling is because you guys are fated mates. There’s no other explanation to it.”

Heeseung clenches his jaw. “Those things don’t exist, Jongseong. Not to me.”

“Oh, come on. Then explain your sex problem.” Jay hisses, his eyes turning sharper. “You think I don’t know that you still can’t get your dick wet with other omegas?”

The burgundy-haired alpha doesn’t blink. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is when she could’ve died!” Jay snaps, his scent flaring with his nose. Heeseung grits his teeth, feeling challenged. 

Then, softer, like vulnerability leaking through his anger, Jay continues: “You could’ve died, Heeseung.”

Heeseung stills. “What?”

Jay lets out a harsh laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think so little of this matter, don’t you?” His voice drops, tight and furious. “A half-bond between fated mates when left too long can cause death. And with the speed you’re going with all these nameless omegas, I bet it’ll be her turn to die first.”

Heeseung scoffs, but it’s weaker now. There’s a new fear settling in his chest. “You’re being dramatic.”

“No,” Jay cuts in sharply. “You’re being stupid. I saw her just now. She’s pale as fuck.”

Heeseung’s quiet for a moment, staring into his friend’s eyes with almost the same amount of resentment. “It has nothing to do with me.”

Like a punishment to his lie, something twists sharply in his chest. But Heeseung is quick to mask his pain under a calm facade, gritting his teeth so hard he might break his jaw. Jay scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, so you’re doing this again.” Jay steps closer, not backing away. “You’re running away again, like the coward that you are. You’ll just run and run, deflect and disappear. Typical Heeseung.”

Jay knows he’ll hit a spot if he says it, but he couldn’t care less. He watches as the expression on Heeseung hardens, giving away the emotions he kept locked in his chest.

“Don’t.”

But Jay doesn’t stop. Of course he doesn’t.

“You think I don’t see it?” Jay presses, voice rising. “Every time something starts to mean something, you bolt. New omega, new bed, new distraction—anything to avoid actually feeling something real.”

“That’s not—”

“That’s exactly what this is!” Jay gestures wildly, frustration spilling over. “You found your mate, and instead of dealing with it, you’re out there fucking anything that moves just to prove you’re still in control.”

Silence slams between them, heavy and ugly. Both alphas are holding back from spiraling, neck straining from self-control and simmering anger.

Heeseung’s laugh this time is cold. “Mate?” he repeats, like the word tastes disgusting. “You really believe in that shit?”

Jay stares at him, disbelief flickering across his face. “I believe in what’s right in front of me.”

“There’s nothing in front of you,” Heeseung shoots back. “She’s just an omega I helped. That’s it.”

“Then why her?” Jay fires immediately. “Why can you find her in a crowd? Why does your scent stick to her for days—for weeks? Why can’t you even touch another omega without looking like you’re about to throw up?”

Heeseung falters, his words failing him as Jay hits him with those facts. His shaky stance doesn’t go unnoticed by the alpha, though. He’s quick to seize the chance.

Jay inhales sharply. “You know I’m right, Heeseung. You and Y/N share a bond.”

“So what?!” Heeseung snaps, frustration finally cracking through. “So what if there’s a bond? You want me to just—what? Drop everything? Play house? Act like I’m suddenly someone I’m not?”

Heeseung meets Jay’s fiery gaze head-on and shoves his friend harshly. “Stay out of it, Jay. I swear to fucking God.”

“And what? Watch you let her die because you couldn’t care less to acknowledge the bond?” Jay lets out a hollow laugh, pushing Heeseung back just as hard. “And then I watch you die?”

“Shut the fuck up. You know nothing about this.”

Their scents clash; sharp citrus and aggressive spice filling up the space like a warning siren. It almost turns physical, Riki almost bursts through the door when he sees their chests almost touching. But it is Jay who stops first.

Not because he wants to. But because he’s thinking of you.

“My parents are fated mates, Heeseung.” Jay starts, quieter, his voice losing its harsh edges. “Doesn’t mean you don’t believe in it, it isn’t real to other people.”

Heeseung remains quiet, his chest still moving rapidly.

Jay’s eyes turn glassy. He retreats one more step away from Heeseung. “If you don’t want her, reject the bond properly,” he says, breathing hard. “You’re letting someone know that you don’t want her as your mate. At least have the decency to be kind about it.”

Jay unclenches his fists.

“Don’t drag her through this half-assed bullshit where you keep hurting her just because you can’t make a decision.”

Heeseung freezes. Out of all words being shouted tonight, it is this quiet resignation from Jay that hits his heart the hardest.

Am I being cruel? Heeseung lowers his gaze. Am I a coward?

Heeseung doesn’t wait too long for an answer.

“Stop being a coward, Heeseung. I beg you.”

The words hang between them, like unwanted vines curling around a trunk of a tree. Heeseung’s gaze stays rooted to the ground, trying to find his voice.

But he doesn’t get the chance to.

“...Heeseung?”

Your voice, soft as it is, cuts through the air like a blade. Both alphas turn to where you’re standing by the door. The faint light spilling from the moon only highlights how pale your face is, void of any warmth and colour.

You stand there, one hand gripping the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping you upright, your other pressed weakly against your chest. Your eyes, God, your eyes. They’re glassy, unfocused, yet locked onto him like you’ve found something you’ve been searching for your entire life.

Beside him, Heeseung can sense the way Jay’s body tenses the way his does.

“Heeseung…” you call for him again and move to get closer.

But then you flinch. Your entire body recoils, your nose scrunches. 

There, lingering around Heeseung like an unwanted mark, is a scent you know too well. Fruity bubblegum and cloying cotton candy; a scent that flashes pink in your head, turning into a female rage that hits too close to home. Your gaze catches the shape of someone’s mouth staining his golden skin, and something inside you breaks.

Narin.

Heeseung smells like Narin.

Your hand instinctively goes to cover your nose, eyes slowly going wide. The room goes silent, holding its breath as Heeseung feels it. 

The fleeting second where something inside you shatters.

Heeseung steps forward. “Y/N—”

But you retreat faster, away from him like he’s a disease that could kill you. 

“No,” your voice cracks, shaking your head as if trying to physically deny what your body is already registering. “No, no, no…”

Your breath comes out in shallow bursts, your fingers clawing at your shirt. 

It hurts. It hurts so bad. 

It’s like every system in your body is collapsing, failing to cope with the ultimate rejection that comes in the scent of another woman. Your fist hits your chest, forcing the air to flow in because it suddenly feels almost impossible to breathe.

Heeseung feels it now—really, really feels it. The bond is thrashing, frantic, like it’s holding onto something that’s slipping through its grasp. The pained scent of withering daisies starts filling up the air, suffocating both alphas instantly. Jay shifts uncomfortably, looking back and forth from Heeseung to you in alert.

“Hey, hey—Y/N,” Heeseung tries again, softer this time, reaching out instinctively. “Look at me. Y/N—”

“Don’t!” Your voice spikes, sharp with fear. Heeseung freezes, his throat closing up when he sees something you’re yet to realise.

That’s when you feel it—something warm trickling down your nose. You instinctively wipe it and stare at the red liquid smearing your fingers.

Blood. Then another drop falls on your palm. Before you can react properly, it already spills down your chin, past your fingers, dripping onto the floor, tainting the white tiles like a crime scene.

“Fuck.” Jay curses under his breath, his wolf perking up in alarm.

Beside him, Heeseung is beyond agitated. “Y/N!”

He doesn’t think. Heeseung lunges forward, longing to be close to you at that moment. But you’re already shaking your head rapidly, tears spilling uncontrollably now.

“Stop!” you gasp, pale lips trembling like dying petals. “I can’t do this—I can’t—”

Inside you, your omega is screaming in pain. In betrayal. In self-preservation. Her voice, raw and jagged, torn by pain, echoes in your head. 

An instinct, primal and desperate, takes over your being.

Cut it off.

Cut it off before it kills you.

You clutch at your chest, lungs burning up like a wildfire. Tears spill out freely, drenching your face in anguish and agony.

Cut it off!

And finally, you let go.

Across from you, just a few paces away, Heeseung feels it like a force, stopping him in his tracks.

It doesn’t come gradually, or slowly. It rips through his body. A violent, invisible force tearing straight through his chest like something sacred being forcibly severed. His breath is knocked out of him.

“Fuck!” Somewhere behind him, Jay is also spiraling, realising what’s going down.

But Heeseung doesn’t know. He staggers, his knees almost giving up as excruciating pain spreads from the scent gland in his neck down to his chest. Something inside him—something he never fully acknowledges—finally snaps. He almost screams.

A thick veil of tears wells up instantly, blurring his vision faster than he could process it.

“Y/N,” his voice breaks, the cracks showing up like poison in daggers. Across from him, you’re already sobbing.

It’s loud and raw, a wailing that stops even the loud music from inside. Your scent, bitter and beyond distressed, is now flooding the space like a broken dam. Your body folds in on itself as if trying to contain something that’s already shattered beyond repair.

Inside of you, your omega goes silent completely.

And it terrifies him. A lot. 

Heeseung clutches his neck, where his scent gland is pulsing violently, throbbing in an indescribable pain that feels like it could kill him. And when his eyes find yours, he realises with dread that the pull is no longer there. 

He can’t feel you. His wolf can’t feel your wolf.

The constant, aching thread that’s been tying him to you; it’s gone.

You cut the bond from your side.

The half-bond, already fragile with doubt and cowardice, is hanging by its loose thread. If it was a red string like many people had said, Heeseung’s sure it’d waver pathetically by his finger, trembling like a thread losing its kite.

“What…What did you do?” he whispers, voice hollow and shaky.

Heeseung takes a step forward again, ignoring Jay’s warning voice from behind him. His focus becomes singular on you, not minding the many pairs of eyes watching from the other side of the door.

This time, his step is slower and careful, like approaching something fragile. Something that is already broken.

Someone wounded.

You don’t move toward him. You don’t even spare him a look. You just cry, quietly, as now it feels empty where the bond used to be. You can’t feel him. 

You can only feel pain.

“Y/N…”

“...I want to leave.”

You wipe your nose, the blood still fresh and wet. You lean on the door for support, still trying to hold yourself up despite the urge to just collapse. Heeseung has to force restraint on himself, holding himself back from running to you. He searches your face, trying to catch your eyes, terrified beyond reason.

The silence is deafening.

At last, you lift your gaze, misty eyes meeting misty eyes.

“I ended it.” Your voice, used to be soft and warm, is now cold. Heeseung feels his lungs stop functioning.

“There’s nothing between us anymore.”

And that’s when it hits him brutally.

Heeseung didn’t just push you away.

He’s lost you.

sorry for the cliffhanger! part 2 coming soon 🔜

perm taglist: @kristynaaah @seungiesdoll

Pairings: Commercial pilot!N.Riki x Wife!Reader

Theme: Doomed lovers, Slow burn(kinda), friends to lovers, various settings and timelines (they grow up together), They're so in love lol, Ft. Heeseung, Sunoo and Jungwon, (One skz meme reference)

Warnings: Fluff, Slight suggestiveness, Angst, No comfort, Major character death, Hints of depression at the end

Word Count: 12.7k

Mikki's Note: Helloo!! This is my first ever fic and I'm quite nervous about it, but writing this was so fun! Honestly i didn't know if i should write angst for my first post but I've had this idea forever lololl... i really hope you guys like it! Also, english isn't my first language so please excuse any grammatical errors. Comments, likes and reblogs are much much appreciated! Enjoy <333

The album flips to a picture of you and Riki in your senior year of high school - capturing your very first kiss.

You’d known Riki since you were 14 - curious eyes peering at the new student who had transferred from Japan. He was quite a bubbly child back then, always participating in the latest dance competitions and cracking jokes amidst a serious classroom.

You and him weren't really meant to cross paths, not with him being so bright and social, and you - reserved and opting to maintain your peace. You’d thought he would be like every other boy you admired - keeping distance, sending a polite smile or two. But that all changed on a random Tuesday.

Laughter bubbles in your throat at the memory as you unconsciously rotate the beautiful engagement ring on your finger, heart swelling up with love, the same way it did all those years ago. If it weren't for him, you don’t think you would've ever made the efforts to even interact with the boy.

“.…Is that The Girl in the Glass Case?” the voice snaps you out of your dazed peace and the chair beside you screeches before a figure drops into it. Nishimura Riki - one of the popular kids from the school’s dance crew. You pause your finger flipping the page and crane your neck to stare at him, his sudden presence catching you off guard. “Uh…yea.”

He hums. Why is he even here? Let alone speaking to you? Do you have something on your face? He’s been staring for too long-

“You’re in my class right? Third row last seat?” Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, brain working too fast. A very stiff nod seemingly satisfies him, and he shifts his focus onto the book again.

 “Its an interesting book. Do you like thrillers?” Honestly, you don’t know what prompted this. Its not like you are friends, but the way he’s so casually attempting a conversation - limbs relaxed and eyes trailed on the spine of the book - makes you quirk your lips up. “Quite a lot, actually.”

The two of you fall into easy conversation after that, save for the initial awkwardness. You barely spend an hour together before he announces that he has to leave, but the short period of time changes your perspective about him. Hes very different than what you'd thought to be.

"Don’t you have Biology class now? Come, I’ll walk you.” He slings his bag onto his shoulder and pushes the chair back. Stuffing your material into your bag, you imitate his actions before passing him a small smile. “Lets go.”

Interactions are limited to polite smiles and casual conversations about the class and your respective well being after that - and even if one may think that this is quite normal, it’s the start of a new acquaintanceship for you. You aren't one to interact with his group like the other kids of your class - not because they're rude or arrogant - no. But mostly because you shy away from the attention.

This limits your conversations with him, but you always find each other passing small smiles or chipping in points to each other’s ideas during group discussions. You're content with this easy atmosphere between the two of you, not really expecting much association with him individually after the library incident. Oh, if only you knew how much of your thoughts and space the Japanese boy would take up in the future.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The music bleeds through the hallways, filling the empty space with the sounds of violin and piano. You're just about wrapping up with your club agenda for next week, rubbing a hand across your face to wipe away some of the tiredness seeping through your bones.

Being the president of the literary club demands dedication, effort and time. More so of the latter. And so you find yourself sitting in the vacant club room - long after the school hours have ended and the hallways gone quiet - trying to jot down points for the next activity.

You slump in your chair after some futile efforts, opting against finishing the agenda and rather having half the mind to dash home and binge watch the entire season of Two Broke Girls again. But one thing about you is that you’re awfully adamant on finishing whatever you start. Its something that has caused you to often neglect your health many a time.

Just as you pick up your pen, your hear the violin again, and your brows furrow. The schools good as empty now, save for some of the cleaning staff….so where’s the sound coming from? The hasty writing of yours stares back at you, as if trying to get you to finish it fast.

The chair ultimately screeches back, and you get up, closing the book. A small break wont hurt, right? Your feet drag you out of the room and into the hall, the music getting louder. The closer you walk to the dance room, the more it amplifies. You come to a halt right in front of the dark blue door, which guards the source of the melody gracing your ears.

The pads of your fingertips connect to the cool metal of the handle and you hesitate just for a beat, before slowly cracking the door open. You immediately spot a figure inside - a boy, and your first thought is to close the door and go about your work again. You wouldn’t want to intrude.

But before your brain can even catch up with you, his head snaps towards the door and he freezes mid step. Staring right back at you with surprise gleaming in his eyes, is Riki. You’re already moving to close the door before he can process the situation. “I am so sorry, I didn’t know you were in here and I swear I didn’t mean to disturb your routine, its just I thought someone left the player on again and-”

“Stay.” His voice cuts smoothly through your rambling and you freeze, hand still on the handle - and the thin line of sweat forming on it. “I mean, I don’t mind if you stay.” He adds on quickly after taking in your response. You debate it for a second, but the way hes looking at you so expectantly makes you step inside and shut the door.

He passes you a small smile before wordlessly restarting his routine again and you cozy yourself in the corner of the room, body slumped against the wall. Your eyes follow his movements in the mirror, watching how he moves so gracefully - as if he doesn’t have to take any efforts to execute the dance.

His eyes lock with yours briefly and you look away, embarrassed for being caught. He probably thinks you're weird and creepy now-

But he smiles. You don’t catch it of course, too busy over-thinking and fiddling with your necklace to notice.

Cute. 

Riki drops beside you after his routine ends, a bit too close for someone who you strongly consider an acquaintance at best. “What are you doing here?” He runs a hand through his sweaty hair and chugs his water down, eyeing you curiously.

You look at him confused. “Oh sorry. I meant to ask what you were doing in school this late. It’s almost 5PM.”

“Club work.” You sigh, resting your cheek on your knees pulled close. “I have to finish planning activities for next week. Miss Kim wants us to host an event to convince other people to join.” He listens to you speak and wonders if its possible for someone to be so soft spoken.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you then, the occasional honk of a car in the distance the only sound disrupting it. He mirrors your position after a while, beady eyes poring into you.

“Can I ask you something?” A hum vibrates in your chest. “Yes?”

“Do you want to do this often? I mean- hang out. I want to get to know you. Not just the classmate version of you.”

You fall silent for a beat. “…why?” you barely whisper. “Why would you want to know me? I'm not…. that interesting.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, don’t you think?” He smiles then, and you think your heart stops for a second. Your lips quirk up slowly, a small, genuine smile lighting your face up. It’s a small gesture, honestly. But for Riki - oh -he feels like he’s achieved something better than winning a dance competition.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The meet-ups slowly become routine for the two of you. He always finds you sitting in the corner of the library, tucked away and reading to pass time. Everyday, he shows up and stays hours upon hours, sometimes telling you about his dance crew, sometimes discussing the books you’ve read.

On some slow days, you visit him in the dance room, watching him move across the floor with admiration and respect in your eyes. You sit and chat until the red hues of the horizon bleed into the sky after his routines, occasionally accompanying a small snack box with you which he wholeheartedly accepts.  

By the time sophomore year rolls in, you’ve grown inseparable. Hanging out with Riki changes you quite a bit, your reserved persona blossoming into a more carefree and social one.

Your friends notice the change. They whisper about how he’s different with you - always leaving little notes and candies on your desk, but you brush it off as an act of kindness, convincing both yourself and your girls that Riki’s just thoughtful like that.

Hes nice, polite even. He cares for everyone, yes. But he doesn’t stay at school late until only the whispers of the wind echo the building - waiting for his friends to finish council duties. Only for you though, he does.

Its safe to say that his lighthearted humor; his habit of always caring, and that soft smile is a bit too much for your fifteen year old self, and you find yourself falling for him, gradually but surely.

As always, you're heading back to class, filling the air with discussions of exams and plans for the weekend, when you spot something that grasps both your attention and your breath. “Aren’t they so pretty?” Your finger is pointed towards a beautiful bloomed pink lily which sits in the soil beside the sidewalk.

Riki’s chatter dies down and he observes how your face lights up at the flower, like its existence is enough to brighten your day. “Do you like lilies?” He asks, moving forward to pluck it for you. The gasp you let out is part shock part happiness. “Yes, very much.” And the pure awe that gleams in your eyes while you gently wrap your fingers around the stem makes Riki decide then and there, that this wont be the last time you receive them.

He shows up at your doorstep on the last day of senior year as always, and in his hand, with no doubt - is a bouquet of meticulously arranged white and pink spider lilies. You crack a grin, gratefully accepting the flowers and replacing them with the old ones in your vase - which you'd invested in last year after Riki made it clear that the lilies were going to be a recurring occurrence.

”Final day of the last year of school, how we feeling?” The door clicks shut behind you and he reaches a hand out to ruffle your hair, causing you to swat his hand away. “I don’t know, I’m really glad we don’t have to deal with Mr. Choi and his 10 page essays, but I think I’ll really miss this. Like….everything.”

”Speak for yourself angel, I'm so glad I’m leaving this stupid institution.” You frown at that, kicking a pebble as you walk beside him. “You wont even miss the dance crew?” You can practically see the gears in his brain shifting before he sends a lazy grin your way. “Ill miss you more than anything.” Your eyes roll and you playfully shove him, ignoring the way your heart stutters at his words.

 “Okay, wrap it up.” He chuckles at your response, pulling you closer to him by the hem of your blazer. “C’mon angel, you know I jest.” The walk to school is peaceful, the air around your filling with mindless conversations. “What are you doing after school today?” His voice is hushed, hesitant.

“Why?”

 “I wanna show you something.” His fingers card through his hair, brushing the stray strands out of his eyes. A brow quirks up and you pass him a not so amused look. “Yea, the last time you said that I almost threw up crying from that blasphemous haunted house.” He offers you a sheepish - slightly regretful smile at that, lips turning up into a barely there pout.

He always got like this whenever he wanted something out of you, and knowing him, there was a near definite chance that he’d get it. “Please, angel? I promise its nothing like that this time. You'll really like it, trust me.” With a skeptic click of your tongue and a barely convinced sigh, you decide to indulge in him this once. “Fine.”

.

.

.

“I’m scared and I’m too young to die Nishimura.” You call out from below. He laughs. He laughs. Nothing about this situation was funny considering his idea of “fun” was risking your life to stare at the evening city skyline.

You’d found Riki in the middle of shirt signing, right after your last class. He’d spotted you almost immediately, and had excused himself with a boyish grin. “Lets go. Are you excited?” He’d tugged onto your hand and pulled you up towards the stairwell. “Gee, sure I am.” You had replied, though your tone was anything but, more so laced with uncertainty and a hint of sarcasm.

Now you stand on the balcony of your school, staring at him climbing a ladder that leads to the water tanks almost 5 feet above the initial ground. “Get down, im not gonna get up there.” He passes you a conspiratory smile and you shake your head, taking three steps back with slightly nervous scoff.

 “Nope. No. I’m gonna leave-” Before you can even blink he jumps down from the ladder and grabs your arm, pulling you towards the metal piping. “Stop being such a debby downer, you’ll be fine.” You let out a more offended scoff at that. Debby downer? This was your safety we’re talking about. What if you fall- or worse- die?!

Okay. maybe you were being a littleee dramatic. But can you blame a girl? The last time he’d said these words you’d almost spiraled into thinking a seven foot tall talking mummy with a machete was going to manifest in the middle of the room.  Oh, you hated those god forsaken haunted houses.

“Breathe, angel. I wont let you fall.” His voice interrupts your unpleasant flashback and you frown at him. “Fine, but im gonna haunt you for life if I do.” He shakes his head with an amused laugh and lets you climb the ladder first. Just as you reach the top, you let out a small sigh and brush your hands to get off any dust.

He follows right after, hoisting both your bags on the wall, swinging his legs over the ledge, and pulling you to sit down beside him. You gasp at the view you’d been ignoring due to nerves and the sight mesmerizes you.

The city sky line stretches out for as long as your eye can see, and the sky looks like a canvas, all reds and yellows and oranges mixing in together. You cant see where it ends and where the towers start - the entire image overwhelming you in the greatest way. Below you, far in the distance, you spot the cars and people dashing towards wherever they have to be, and you realize - really, how small the world can be from up here.

“Do you like it?” You don’t look at him, only nod. “Yea.” He smiles, long fingers slowly reaching out to yours. He entwines them and quietly drops your hands in his lap, turning his head to stare at your side. Riki doesn’t think he’s seen anything more stunning in his entire life.“Has my whole heart.” He whispers. You still think hes referring to scenery and hum, a wide smile spreading across your face. “I can see why.”

But when you look at him, he’s not looking forward. Instead, his eyes are fixated on you.  “I…..want to talk to you.” You squeeze your hand in his, encouraging him with a playful smile. “You’re talking right now.” A chuckle rumbles in his chest and he scoots closer. He shifts his focus on the horizon now, voice low and calm, like he has all the time in the world.

“Remember that time when I bruised my jaw during basketball season?”

“The fist fight back in grade 10?”

“Yea.” He smiles lightly. “You had walked all across the court and lectured me in front of my team.” You furrow your brows. “Why are you bringing that up-”

“Let me finish.” His thumb traces light patterns over your hand. “I was kind of pissed in the moment I’m not gonna lie. But then after the game you cleaned my wounds, and I saw those tears in your eyes.” A pause. “No one had worried for me like you do, and my heart broke a little watching you fuss over my stupidity.” There’s silence for a beat, and his gaze drops to your tangled fingers. “I think that’s when I decided I cant let you go. Ever.”

Your breath catches in your throat at the implication. “What do you mean-”

“I love you.” The three words ring out in the silent air and your heart nearly explodes. He’s looking at you now, staring as if he’s trying to memorize every line on your face.

You don’t know what to say, brain scrambling to process everything. “You….” The door to the balcony bursts open and you hear the voices of your friends calling out to you, but you’ve already tuned everything out.

His eyes drops to your lips and his free hand brushes the strand of hair off your cheek. “I do.” His voice has dropped to a whisper and you here another incoherent yell from one of his friends this time. “May I?” Your head moves on your own, nodding only once.

He closes the gap between you and presses his lips onto yours, pausing to make sure you’re really okay with this. You move then, softly capturing his own into your mouth. Sweet. He tastes so sweet. You think.  

Your eyes shut close and he pulls you impossibly closer with the hand tangled in his lap and you melt into his touch. His thumb grazes your cheek softly, head tilted for better access.

Click!

The sounds of a camera shutter goes off and your senses finally take in the excited cheering of your friends from below. You break the kiss slowly, unwilling to open your eyes just in case you’re dreaming - but the firm squeeze of his hand confirms that this is very much real. A small but genuine giggle slips past you as you take him in - his face glowing in the dusk, a wide grin decorating his face. His eyes are upturned into soft crescents. “I love you too” You whisper loud enough for him to hear.

Jungwon - a mutual friend- has already climbed up the ladder by now, and he announces his arrival pretty loudly. “Ohmygod finally!” The small bubble you and Riki had formed breaks, and the two of you swing your legs over the ledge and get up, greeting the older boy.

“Thanks a lot hyung. We were kind of having a moment here.” Riki’s voice bleeds out with disapproval and slight annoyance, only  gaining a loud laugh from the latter. You notice him waving the camera in his right hand dramatically. Ah, so he clicked the picture.

With barely contained excitement, he shoves the camera in your face- very proudly showing you the picture he took. “Don’t you look so adorable? Took the two of you long enough.”

The film captures a still image of you and Riki with your lips locked. The golden-orange light of the setting sun reflects on your faces and you notice how both of you are smiling mid kiss. You crane your neck to look at him, only to find that his focus is already on you. And then he gives you that boyish smile you’ve come to adore over the years. Its perfect.

This is perfect.

You hadn't imagined this for your last ever day of high school, but you were sure you’d cherish it the most.

Later that evening, Riki comes by with a bouquet red lilies, different to the pink ones you’re so used to seeing. He asks you to be his girlfriend, handing the arrangement to you. The confusion on your gleeful face doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You place the flowers in your familiar vase and jump into his embrace, agreeing to his wish and kissing his cheek.

“Red lilies symbolize love, angel.” The two of you are tangled on your couch, replaying Frozen for the umpteenth time. You tilt your head backwards from your position in between his legs and hum.

“What?” He looks down at you from behind, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I got you red ones instead of pink because red symbolizes love. It represents passion.” You you always knew that Riki was thoughtful, but this- oh this - it showed that he cares.  

His silent actions make you want to say so much - to express how grateful you are for everything, but you opt for a more hushed, quieter gesture. “Thank you.” You shift in his embrace, movie temporarily forgotten.

”For the flowers?”

“No. For being there for me. For loving me.” And the way he looks down at you with such pure and unfiltered affection confirms the one thought in your head.

It will always be him.

“You're single handedly keeping the floral boutique business running.” A light chuckle slips past your lips as you refill the water in the vessel. He grins, leaning against your doorway. “They should pin me as their star customer if you ask me.” You straighten the petals of the fresh bouquet you placed inside the vase, an assortment of pinks and reds adding decor to your living room.

”You spend too much on them Riki! I cant possibly allow you to invest so much on flowers that eventually wither.” Its like scolding a child, really. He’s awfully stubborn when it comes to this. Don’t get me wrong now, you’ve had this conversation with him far too many times since high school, but he insists on getting them every single time, no matter how expensive.

Two strong hands wrap around your waist from behind and you feel his hair nuzzle your jaw. His head drops to your shoulder, lips pressing to your skin. “Hmmm….at least my love for you will never wither.” His hum rings in his throat, sending tiny vibrations down your spine. “You’re so cheesy Nishimura.”

”You love it angel.” A laugh slips through your lips and you hum, spinning around in his grasp and kissing his jaw. Because you do. You really really do love it.“You shouldn’t be here. Don’t you have class?” Your fingers reach up to fix his hair, which he’d recently dyed blonde as per your request.

After high school, the two of you had mentally prepared yourselves for a long distance relationship, knowing that your dreams laid on different paths.

But fortunately, Jungwon - who was also in your college - had somehow convinced Riki’s parents to let him stay rather than shift back to Japan.  And so his nineteen year old self stood here currently with you captured in his arms, grinning up at him.

“Who cares about class?” A small smack lands on his chest and he winces. “Your GPA. The dream job you want. Miss Choi who keeps tormenting poor Heeseung over you.”

His eyes roll at your words, mumbling out in a very bored tone, “Yea well he deserves it- ow! Stop hitting me!” Another firm smack lands on his chest- except this time, harder. “He was trying to find you all over campus last week. Did you tell him you were at the studio?” A sheepish smile colors his face. “…Maybe?” You glare at him, thinking of a way to get him to seriously attend his class. “Okay but I genuinely was going to go to fix my new dance routine…”

“And then..?” You pry, voice already knowing. “…And then I kinda got distracted and ended up in your apartment…but only because I missed you!” He adds on quickly.

You click your tongue, and untangle yourself from his grasp, worried for the boy. There’s no way he can keep this up, for both your and his sake. Maybe Heeseung’s too. “Yea right. You cant keep using that excuse every time to woo your way out. Get to class, now.” Hes already being pushed out your door. “But-”

“Out, now.”

He gives up and lets you shove him outside, eyeing you warily. “Okay but my kiss-”

Slam!

The door shuts in his face, and he can hear your voice muffled through the other side. “Attend all your classes for a week and you’ll get it.”

You hear him sigh outside your door and the sounds of footsteps retreating. Riki could be so difficult when he wanted to, but you liked his quiet stubbornness sometime. It gave you some entertainment.

With a final shake of your head at the door, you retreat back to your room to finish the ongoing assignment you had been writing before he showed up. You silently thank the gods that it’s Thursday, which meant you had a free schedule for the entire day.

.

.

.

After 4 hours of cramming your back in a preposterous position in a hard wooden chair  - which you were sure you’d regret later on-  you allow the pen to slip from your fingers, eyes trailing to the digital clock on your desk. It reads 18.45. Had you really been writing for that long?

Fingers flexing, you only then register how much your knuckles hurt from staying bent for so long. The chair screeches backwards and you stand, stretching your body. Time for a break. Your feet pad through the quiet atmosphere and lead you towards the kitchen.

You swing your pantry door open, eyes raking over the snacks that you have. Where’s the cheese ramen? Cookies…..muffins….doritos…what the hell. You double check, and then triple check just for sure, eyebrows furrowing in slight frustrated confusion. Did Heeseung finish all of them? You had 4 packs. Oh, when you get your hands on that devil-

Ring!

The doorbell interrupts your grand scheme of revenge (Filling Heeseung’s bed with plastic cockroaches) and you grumble, mildly irritated. You trudge to the hall and roll your eyes when the ringing continues impatiently. “Oh my god, I’m coming! Jeez!” The door swings open and before you can even blink, a series of people - boys, specifically- shove their way inside your living space.

A paw to your foot snaps you out of your initial daze and you almost instantly smile, picking the little white furball up. “Maeum, my baby!” He licks your face eagerly as you coddle him, squishing him against your cheek.

“I would appreciate some of that treatment too.” Your focus finally shifts to the 4 boys sprawled out on your couch as if they own it, eyes locking with Riki who is currently glaring at the canine. “Everyone except Sunoo is free to leave by the way.”

A collective gasp echoes in the air at your words with the sole exception of Sunoo - who looks awfully delighted. “I told you she likes me the most.” Maeum jumps out of your arms and settles down in Jungwon’s lap - who is currently busy trying swat Heeseung for pinching him. You sigh and shut the door which had been open and make your way towards the couch.

With a pout, Riki pulls you next to him beside Heeseung almost immediately and you frown. “Did you attend all your classes?” He nods. “All of them?” You ask again, looking at Heeseung for confirmation who only nods.

Riki points at his lips and taps, pulling you closer to him with a hand on your wrist. A whisper of disbelief leaves your mouth, “You cant be real.” The plush of your lips connects with his and you offer him a small kiss. “EW. No PDA please.” You break away from him and stare at Heeseung incredulously. “This is my apartment which you sabotaged, mind you.”

He shifts farther away from you as to make a point and his face contorts into one of fake disgust. You squint your eyes, the dull ache of hunger in your stomach reminding you of the ramen stealing culprit. “So….” You start, and the attention shifts all on you. “I had 4 ramen packs stocked just last week….” Your eyes rake around the room casually, before stopping on Heeseung’s already guilty face. “I open my pantry today and all of them are gone!”

“What the fuck, I knew leprechauns were real.” All of you collectively shift your heads to stare at Jungwon and he only shrugs. “I hate those tiny green menaces.”

“No way Jungwon has made it this far in life.” Sunoo’s shock makes you crack up slightly, but you quickly regain composure, eyes pinning Heeseung down again. “Anyways, pray tell me Heeseung, do you know what happened to my Buldak?”

He slowly stands up from the couch and retreats to fiddle with his bag. His fingers fish for his wallet and he makes his way to the door. “I’ll buy you 7 packets as compensation.”

“So you admit eating all of them, you bigback!” You yell as he darts out the door, one shoelace still untied. “Im buying you more though woman!”  He yells back and you scoff at his audacity. There’s no way this guy is four years older than you.

 Maeum settles in your lap and Jungwon lets out a sound of betrayal before making space for Sunoo to sit comfortably. You absentmindedly pet the pup in your arms and lean into Riki’s shoulder. “Im so tired and bored.” He lodges his arm above you on the back rest, pulling you in closer. “By staying at home the whole day?”

He snickers at the glare you send him, pecking your forehead. “You know I jest, angel.” You sigh, briefly closing your eyes. “I’ve been writing that stupid assignment the whole day.”  

“What assignment?” You lift your head up from his shoulder and snap your neck to Sunoo, who’s also in your major. “The one on romantic and victorian literature.” If Sunoo could turn any paler, he does in the moment. You sit up straighter at his reaction, disbelief plastered on your face. “Its literally 45% of our grade!”

The phone lodged in his hands drops and he stands up, pacing your living. “When was this announced? I didn’t know this! When is it due?” Maeum seems to notice the shift in atmosphere and lazily picks his head up before dropping it in your lap again. “Literally last week. Don’t worry though, you still have around 4 days to finish it.” You pause, and he shoots you a slightly uneasy look. “I sense a but.”

“Butt, lol.” Sunoo almost chucks his phone at Riki but restrains himself from getting tangled in a half murder case. “But…it has to be at least 25 pages long.” Even Jungwon gasps at this, momentarily distracted from whatever game he had been playing on his phone.

 “25 pages?!” Sunoo almost falls to his knees in the middle of your apartment and Riki, as always, thinks this is hilarious. “Better get to writing, hyung.” The former snaps at him harshly, barely even letting him complete his sentence. “I don’t wanna hear anything from the dude who keeps skipping classes.” Riki’s laughter immediately ceases right when the doorbell rings and you get up to open the door.

Heeseung’s face twists into one of confusion at the sight of the brunette sulking on your carpet. “I literally only left for 15 minutes.” He kicks his shoes off and places the two heavy plastic bags he’d been carrying on the coffee table.

“He’s throwing a tantrum, don’t worry about it.” Riki cuts through, sending Sunoo a menacing smile, to which the latter only signs him the knife to throat gesture, sliding his thumb across his neck to mimic a slicing motion - a silent threat. “Count your days Nishimura Riki. You will go bald and your girlfriend will leave you.” Riki sticks his tongue out at the older, only trying to provoke him more.

“Eugh, mint chocolate icecream.” Jungwon - who had been quick to inspect the plastic bags - remarks whilst pulling out a tub of ice cream. That catches both your and Sunoo’s attention, and the boy completely forgets his previous conversation, sitting up straight at the words ‘mint’ and ‘icecream’

“I figured we should just have group dinner since its pretty late and we’re all here.” Heeseung sits beside Sunoo on the carpet and you retreat to the kitchen to put the sweet in the freezer and grab some plates. By the time you come back, the other two boys have also made themselves comfortable on the carpet, huddling around the parcel of takeout. Maeum claims the sofa to himself and decides to sleep peacefully.

You set the dishes down on the table and settle in between Jungwon and Heeseung. The younger reaches for his bag and tries to find something whilst the rest of you plate dinner.

“Hey guys!” You all look at him waving a deck of UNO cards in his hand, a devilish smirk plastered on his face. “Wanna play UNO?”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Pick two more.” Sunoo smirks at Jungwon’s move as he places a yellow card down over his own. “Pick up four.” The laugh that Jungwon lets out almost scares you out of your skin. “pick up EIGHT!” The card slams down on your poor coffee table and you can only watch from where you’ve settled down on the sofa.

Three rounds into the game and Heeseung had decided to leave, announcing that his girlfriend needed help with her project. The remaining four of you only knew those were excuses to get out of the never-ending card game but didn’t pry. Two more rounds later Riki had  flipped the table and decided to ragequit. Eventually, you had gotten tired of his incessant pouting and huffing from beside you and decided to withdraw.

Now - almost one hour into the game - only Jungwon and Sunoo are left, and as much as you can make out, none of them are willing to back down. Sunoo reels back with giggles, slapping his lap as he plucks a card from the deck he’s holding, and Jungwon’s face instantly drains color.

“Pick up…..twelve.” Jungwon’s cards slam down and he stands up, pointing at the other. “That’s cheating!!” Sunoo’s rolling on the carpet at this point, cards long forgotten.

“Ohmygod you really thought you were gonna win, didn’t you?” - A gasp of air - “Ohmygod your face was pure gold” He cackles, and you almost feel bad for the younger boy.

Riki’s head shifts in your lap and he lets out a bored groan. “Its literally just a game hyung. Tone it down.” Both heads snap simultaneously towards him. “You flipped the fucking table!” A second groan slips out of him - turning sides and burying his face in the plush of your skin.

The next hour is just a bunch of yelling, blaming, and Sunoo ragebaiting Jungwon like he gets paid for it. With a heavy sigh, you shift Riki off your lap to break Jungwon apart from Sunoo - who is currently tackled to the ground. “Okay, its getting late you two.”Jungwon peels himself off first, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, I demand a rematch.”

Sunoo snickers, brushing his sweatshirt clean. “Sore loser.” You’re tugging Jungwon up and about towards the door before he turns even more red from Sunoo’s teasing, lightly scolding him to wear his shoes.

Riki sits up straighter now, shaking his head with disappointment. “Real mature guys.” He decides to finally help you kick the two out of your apartment, grabbing their bags and Sunoo’s arm before dragging him towards the door. “Let me have my girlfriend to myself. Goodnight.”

They can barely get a word in before the door closes on their faces. You let out a loud sigh, walking back to tidy your apartment. The two of you work silently for the next few minutes, finally dropping on the sofa after cleaning after your friends.

You hardly even get to adjust on the sofa before Riki’s pulling you up to your feet again, which you highly disapprove of. He tugs you to you door, and your brows furrow. “What? What now?”

“Just come.” He replies, putting his shoes on and grabbing your keys. The door locks after you pull it shut, following him into the lobby. He presses the elevator and nudges you inside, jabbing the button for the last floor. “Do you know someone up there or…” You trail off, slightly baffled.

A ding hums when you reach the last floor and the doors open. He laces your fingers with his and gently pulls you in the direction of the stairs leading to your building’s balcony.

Cool wind with the hint of something delicious wafting in the air graces you when he shoves the rackety door to the balcony open. You walk to the ledge, leaning over your elbows to admire the nightlife of your city.

The moon shines brightly tonight, and the late hour gives you a sense of peacefulness. Riki leans beside you, chin dropped in his palm. “The moon is beautiful, isnt it?” You shoot him an easy smile, sliding over closer to him. “It is.”

You needed this. After such a chaotic evening, you were ready to crash right into your bed, but this - being here with him - was much better.

“Look.” He quietly points to an aeroplane in the starry sky, a red light twinkling as it covers the expanse of black. “That’s gonna be me some day. Flying the plane, I mean.” You shift your focus onto his features; the way he looks so content and in awe whilst staring at the vehicle.

“And you'll be there with me.” He says, moving to look at you. You give him a confused smile, tilting your head. “I don’t think I should be flying planes, baby.” He pulls you in till your shoulders are bumped together, a firm hand on your waist as he stares back up at the now empty sky.

“No, of course not,” he chuckles, “But I want my world to be able to see the entire world I’ll travel with me.” And the way he says it makes you go weak in the knees. You kiss him then, under the stars, your own way of promising that no matter what, you’ll always be right by his side.

Flowers, as well as a hand clutching them invade your vision abruptly. “Boo!”

The sound breaks your train of memories and you flinch, the photo album dropping from your hands with a thud onto the tiled floor. Your head whips around from where you’re sat on the sofa and a squeal leaves your mouth.

Riki quickly places the flowers on the nearest surface, and catches you when you jump into his arms, spinning you around once before putting you down on your feet. “You’re back early! Weren't you landing tomorrow?” He places his aviator’s cap on your head, intentionally crooked. The fabric of his crisp uniform wrinkles lightly when his arms flex to wrap around your waist, securing you to his chest. “Mmm, surprise.” He hums out, his voice rumbling deeply in his chest.

The way you’re grinning hurts your cheeks, as you wrap your own arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Your lips move against his and he shifts, inhaling deeply. “I missed you so much..” He murmurs, hands running up and down your waist as he captures your lips once again.

You giggle, fingers carding through his oreo locks as you pull away. “I missed you too baby.” He searches for your lips again, eyes hooded and expectant, but you pull back slightly and peck the corner of his mouth, deliberately missing his lips. “Slow down captain, you should get some rest first.”

He groans, seemingly had enough of your teasing before effortlessly throwing you onto his shoulder and making his way to your shared bedroom. You let out a surprised yelp- cap falling down- to which he responds with a playful spank to your ass.

“I haven't seen my wife in two weeks. I plan on ravishing her.” You squeal, hitting his back. “Riki!”

The door clicks shut behind you, and he places you onto your bed, smirking. “Nope. I can rest later.Right now I need to show you just how much I missed you.”

Rays of morning light filter through the sheer curtains, falling directly in your room and onto your bed. You groan and stir, the dull pain throbbing in you lower half serves as a reminder of your activities last night. He really hadn't been lying when he said he missed you.  

A tiny yawn slips through your lips and your eyes barely crack open while you try to sit up straight, but a strong arm pulls you closer and a groan resonated from behind your back.

“Where are you going?” Riki’s voice gruffs out, still laced with sleep. He tightens his grip on your waist and snuggles his face into the space between your shoulder. “I have to freshen up, baby.” You coo out, mind replaying all the ways he took you apart a few hours ago when his bare thigh brushes against yours.

“Later. Sleep now.” He mumbles, half asleep. And you close your eyes once again, sighing in his touch.

A soft kiss to your neck wakes you up and your body rolls around to snuggle into a firm chest. Riki smiles, half conscious. His arms squeeze you tightly and he drops his head in your hair to inhale your scent. “Morning angel.”

You stir, grumbling out a small good morning back, but making no efforts to get up and start your day. Instead, your face presses into his skin and you hum in content, to which Riki lets out a small giggle, and decides to stay like this for a while.

Oh, how he missed you in his arms.

Late mornings with Riki were something you always looked forward to religiously, considering how less you saw him nowadays. He had been very serious about taking you everywhere with him, but 4 flights in and you had gotten immensely tired of the constant travel.

The two of you bought a small apartment then, in a peaceful neighborhood right after your marriage. It wasn’t big or grand, but it was home. “I want to spend my time with you in the quiet. The airport is loud enough for me.” He had said, and so you had picked a comfy 4 room apartment on the 12th floor, since Riki had always loved the thrill of being far above from the ground.

 You had settled down as a high school teacher, part timing at a local animal shelter on the weekends. That’s where you had found Bisco, a cute chocolate colored pup who had stared up at you like you were meant to be.

This was the life you had always dreamed of - a nice home, a well paying job, a cute little canine, and Riki, always by your side. It couldn’t get any better than this, really.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The scent of pancakes hits your senses as you step out of the bathroom, steam pouring out behind you. Water trickles down your neck and lightly drips onto your shirt from your freshly washed hair. You walk into the kitchen, humming at the delicious aroma. “I love it when you’re home, you know.”

Riki stands near the stove with a pair of sweatpants clinging to his waist and your pink apron tied around his bare upper half, ceremoniously flipping the pancakes with a spatula. “Why? Because you miss my beautiful face?”

You snort and hoist yourself up on the counter beside where he stands, observing the coffee he’s got brewing. “Nah, because I get princess treatment since you basically do all my work for me.” He frowns and pinches your thigh with his free hand. “My wife hates me and wants me to die. Am I nothing but a slave to you?”

You swat his arm away, rubbing your skin. “I can’t believe you're so dramatic. What will your colleagues say when they see their captain whining?” He plates the food and puts the pan in the sink, lodging himself between your thighs. Both his hands settle on either side of the counter and he leans, boxing you in.

“Nothing much for them left to say when they already know my gorgeous wife has me whipped.” He murmurs, leaving a wet trail of kisses along your neck and jaw. You laugh, throwing your head back. A hand slaps his shoulder as you weakly try to push him away. “Don’t start now, the pancakes are getting cold!”

He hums, continuing his ministrations. “The pancakes can wait. Just one kiss, please?” The plush of his lips connect to your shoulder and you shake your head. “We both know its more than just one kiss Nishimura. I'm still sore from last night.”  He smirks at that, pulling back and raking his eyes over your body. “Ooh, you were so loud-”

“Shut up!” You swat his shoulder again, pushing him and sliding past his frame to the dining table. He follows right after you, plates in hand and laughter echoing the space. “What?” he draws out, “I'm just stating facts!”

With a huff, you seat yourself down across him, crossing your arms. “Oh yea? Well…” A bouquet of lilies sitting on the far end of the table catches your attention and you trail off, reaching over to inspect them.

They feel different at first touch, and on closer observation you realize that they aren't the soft, scented ones you’re so familiar with. You run your fingers along the pink petals, glancing at him. “These are fake.” It’s a statement, not a question.

He hums, swallowing the piece of pancake he was chewing and reaching over to his mug of coffee. “Astute observation miss english teacher.” You roll your eyes, mindlessly caressing the plastic softly. He grins when he sees that irritation on your face and silently laughs. “Oh c’mon, you know I jest, angel.”

His hand reaches out to yours from across the surface and he gently plays with your fingers, taking a sip of his coffee. “You know how I used to bring you flowers every week?” Your head snaps up to look at him.

“I used to do it so that the lilies in your vase never wither….but now with me in a different country almost every month, I don’t like coming  back to the sad wilted ones.” His thumb traces patterns over your skin and you place the flowers down beside you, watching his lips upturn in a genuine smile. “So I thought I’d give you ones that will always stay fresh- well, not exactly…but they’ll never wither, no matter what.” Your heart tugs at his thoughtfulness and you quickly move to place them in your vase, discarding the wilted ones which had been sitting there for a little more than 2 weeks.

Riki smiles when you ruffle his hair whilst returning back to your seat. “Aww, that’s so sweet baby, thank you so much.” Bisco jumps into his lap and the two of you divert your attention to the little canine. He lets out a bark and licks Riki’s face as to make his presence known. “Bisco babyy! Did you miss dad?” The pup barks again at that and Riki lets out a laugh, snuggling him.

The morning passes in laughter and Bisco’s funny antics which make you chase him all around the house. By the time you plop down on the sofa, its already lunchtime. Riki sits beside you, laying his head in your lap and staring up at your face. You look down at him when you feel his stare, chuckling lightly. “What now?” Your fingers card through his hair as you reach for the remote to play a movie.

“Nothing, just looking.” You glance at him again, choosing to replay Frozen. “Why? You leaving soon?” It’s a joke, but he shifts his head in your lap and you look down at him, face contorting into slight disappointment.

“.…When’s your next flight?” His eyes trail towards the Disney logo playing on the screen, the animation distracting him from the ugly bubble forming in his chest. “In a week.”

You fall silent at that, and he notices the change in your demeanor. “How long will you be gone this time?” You absently run your fingers through his hair, tugging at his roots occasionally and he sighs- gaze fixated on your frown. “….maybe 3 weeks.” The corners of your mouth deepen further and it sends a pang through his chest.

A heavy silence settles between you after you only reply with a hum, choosing to avoid the conversation and watch Anna sing. But Riki’s mind is spiraling, and his heart feels heavy with guilt. He doesn’t want you to be upset like this. You startle when he abruptly sits up straight and tugs you to your feet, switching the TV off. “Okay, no.”

You let him drag you to your room, fishing through your closet for a new set of clothes. “What….are you doing?” He barely even glances at you as he hands you a cute summer dress you’re yet to wear and pushes you in the direction of the bathroom.

“Taking you out on a date.”

.

.

.

The rest of the week passes by in a blur, filled with constant dates and late night runs to the grocery store or ice cream shop - just because. After your impromptu lunch outing the other day, Riki makes it his one and only goal to spend as much time as he can with you - partly also to keep you occupied and distracted from the fact that he’s leaving so soon.

The two of you lie in your bed now, bodies tangled in a mess of sweat and sheets. Another thing Riki had been hell bent on proving was how much he loved you - and so almost every night, you had found yourself coming undone beneath him as he whispered promises and sweet nothings in your ear.

Now, he drops onto you, groaning. The room falls quiet again- only disrupted by your heaving breathing. “You okay, angel?” He rolls off of you and pulls you into his chest. A slightly tired hum slips past your lips, and you trace the muscles on his biceps, falling into a comfortable silence.

“You think we should add to our family?” His voice comes out hushed, softly tearing through the atmosphere. You pull away to look at his face, sleepy eyes boring into his. “What, you want another puppy?” Riki presses his hand to your belly, wordlessly implying what he meant, and you gasp. “You mean….”

“Yes.” He caresses your cheek with the pad of his thumb, gazing in your eyes with assurance. “A mini me, or you - preferably you.” You smile, bringing your own hand up to place it on his. “I’d love that, yes.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

With that, the two of you drift off into a peaceful slumber- excited for what the future holds.

.

.

.

You wake up to a cold bed, eyes squinting to adjust to the surroundings and faint light intruding your vision. You sit up and blink, regaining half of your senses when a pair of lips connect to your cheek. “Sleep well, angel?” You hum, stretching. Once you’re out of your initial sleep filled daze, you manage to process the surroundings - Bisco in your bed, Riki already in his uniform, and a small suitcase standing beside him.

“You’re leaving already?” Riki wishes he can stay here with you forever, because the way you ask so innocently -barely awake and rubbing your eyes - makes him go weak. “Yes, baby. I have to.” You pout and nod as if you're unwilling to accept it.

“Okay, I’ll freshen up.” You fiddle with the hems of your blanket and throw it off of you, making your way to the bathroom. 30 minutes later, you’re standing dressed and full with the breakfast you ate - frowning down at the boy in front of you.

He crouches up from his former position after securing his right lace, and brushes his dress pants. “Can’t Heeseung sub for you?” He chuckles and pulls you in closer by the elbow, caressing your face. “You know it doesn’t work that way. Plus Heeseung is on paternity leave, remember?”

You lean into his touch, briefly closing your eyes. “Hmm…when’s that gonna be you?” Riki lets out an airy laugh and leans down to peck your forehead. “When I come back, I’ll be sure to make you a mom, okay?”  You nuzzle his hand, cracking your eyes open and whispering softly, “Okay, I’ll look forward to it.” The pads of your fingers brush against his aviator’s cap and you straighten it, grinning. “Our baby will be so cute.”

“Just like you.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek and you whine, fixing his collar one last time. “Fly safely.” Riki rolls his eyes, pulling you in for a kiss. “You know I always do, angel.” You sigh after breaking away from him. “I still worry.” He leans down to peck your cheek and clutches his suitcase, smiling at you in your doorway. “I’ll be back in no time.”

With a final hug, he steps out of your house and into the early morning - on his way for the airport.

The keys rattle in your doorknob and you sigh as the door shakes unceremoniously. Exam papers in one hand, and a grocery bag in the other, you struggle to unlock your apartment without dropping either of the material on the floor.

Finally with a huff, the door creaks open and you stumble inside, feet leading you to the dining table. You let out a sigh once the weight from your hands is put down on the surface, and you drop into the chair.

Finals week is such a disaster.

The uncorrected sheets stare back at you, and you contemplate whether to ease the hunger in your stomach or reduce your workload. Just as you’re about to spiral between the two choices, a ring cuts through and diverts your attention.

Your fingers fish for your phone in your coat pocket and the wary look on your face quickly disappears when you read the caller ID and swipe to pick up.

“Hi angel.”  Riki’s voice cuts through the speaker and you relax, mind melting away all your worries for a moment. “Hi baby, how’s the Netherlands treating you?” You hear some shifting on his side accompanied by a soft grunt. “Its really beautiful. We should come here sometime, you’ll totally love it.”

You chuckle, shrugging your coat off. “Maybe we should have a second honeymoon then.”

“Done. I’m totally ready to recreate it.” His almost instant reply to your suggestion only makes you laugh louder, shaking your head at his silly eagerness. “Dork.”

“You love me, though.”

He tells you about the things he saw over the past 2 and a half weeks and you tell him about school - the exams, your students, the absolutely preposterous answers your 15 year old children have written.

He laughs through your narration, asking a question or two in between. “Oh, by the way..” Riki’s voice trails off and you hum, urging him to continue. “I saw this beautiful bed of lilies today - they were coincidentally pink too.” A pause, “Did you know that the Netherlands grow the most lilies in the world? And they're somehow the prettiest ones. I immediately thought of you.”

You shift your posture, reaching out to the fake ones in your vase to dust them off. “You miss me that much, captain?” You can practically sense him rolling his eyes from there and silently snicker. “God forbid I try be romantic to my wife.”

You hum, teasing. “Don’t worry baby, I miss you too.” He seems content with your reciprocal and proceeds to yawn. “I’ll be there with you by this time tomorrow, with a very real bouquet.” Another yawn. “You know I was just joking with the plastic ones, right?”

“They’re pretty though.” You set them back in the vase and pet Bisco- who had made home in your lap halfway through the call. “Not as pretty as the real ones.” His voice is heavier now and you smile at the phone. “Okay Riki. Go to sleep.” He grumbles on the other side. “But I wanna listen… to your….voice” His sentence trails off and you know how stubborn he can get.

“You can listen to me talk your ear off all you want tomorrow, but go to bed now. You have an early flight baby.” Your stern but soft voice finally compels him to listen and he shifts again.

“Fine. Goodnight, angel.”

“Good night, fly safe tomorrow.”

“I always do.”

.

.

.

Riki’s flight had been scheduled for 6 in the morning, far early for you to give him a call, so he had decided to text you before taking off.

Huzzband🫶🩷🤭

Hi angel, good morning <3

Taking off in 30 mins

Imy :(

See u soon

Love you <33

Delivered

By the time you wake up, your phone already has a few notifications from him. You get up and reach out for the device, bleary eyes squinting at the screen as you type out replies and send him a picture of you and Bisco.

Good morning Rikiii :3

Fly safely!! Imy too baby :((

*One image sent*

Me and Bisco will be waiting for you!! Love youu <33

Delivered

You go about your day after texting him - moving around the house to tidy it. Thank god it’s a weekend. The rest of the day passes by relatively fast as you busy yourself in correcting papers, occasionally glancing at the clock. Bisco keeps you company, lazily resting around on the sofa whilst your hunched over paperwork, scribbling corrections and totaling marks onto a different sheet.

“Dad’s late, isnt he Bisco?” Your eyes are glued to the clock reading 21:30. Bisco whines in your lap which he’d settled in a few minutes ago, nudging your hand for pats. It wasn’t odd of Riki to come home way later after his flight had landed, but you would always receive a text from him the second he touched ground.

Huffing, you get up and Bisco scrambles off your lap. Its okay, maybe he forgot to text and went out with his colleagues. “Come Bisco, are you hungry?” The pup follows after you into the kitchen and eagerly waits near his bowl, watching as you crouch down and pour him some kibbles. “Good boyyy!” You coo out when he does a trick. “Momma will be outside, okay?” With a final pat to his head you stand up and make your way to the couch.

As you sit down, you contemplate whether to text Riki or not. Its pretty late, maybe you should. You pull out your phone and open his chat, your messages still left on delivered since morning. Just as your fingers move to tap the cursor, the bell rings.

You grin, phone forgotten as you peal yourself off the sofa and towards the door. Bisco joins you, curious eyes peeping to the wood. The door is pulled open by your hand and there- infront of you - stands Riki.

But there’s something off. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes and he hesitates to move. He must be tired. You think “Riki!” You throw yourself onto him and squeeze him tightly, but he doesn’t hug you back. You pull away, arms still looped around his neck as you stare into his eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?” He shakes his head, opening his mouth to say something - but is cut off by a loud bark.

Your head snaps down to the canine who is currently growling at your husband. That’s odd. Bisco never growls at the both of you. His growling gets louder and he almost scratches Riki’s calf, which finally causes you to step away from him and pick up the puppy- who is barking non stop.

“Hey, hey Bisco…what happened?” You pet him, trying to calm him down. “That’s dad, sweetie….why are you barking?” He’s baring his teeth at the man now- threatening him. You don’t know what to do with his peculiar behavior, and walk to his doggy room, placing him down on his bed. “Okayy, stay right here for now.” You mutter quietly, walking across the room and closing the door.

When you turn around, Riki is in the living room, staring at a photo frame - a picture from your wedding. You walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist- cheek pressing into the back of his uniform. Why does it smell like ash? 

He flinches. Your brows furrow a bit, but the smile on your face stays, brushing it off as exhaustion. “I missed you sooo much baby.” You say, nuzzling your face into him. He sighs and turns around, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I missed you too, angel.” He whispers, but his voice sounds different- you cant really place your finger on it, but there’s something heavy in his tone- as if he’s saying his words with finality.

You open your mouth to ask him about his flight, but the sharp ring of your phone cuts you off. Both your heads snap towards it and you move to pick it up. Why is Heeseung calling you at this hour? Riki plucks the phone out of your hand - silences it - and places it on the coffee table where your papers lay. “Talk to him later.” A confused look colors your face. “It might be important…Heeseung never calls this late.” Riki stares at you with a clenched jaw, pulling you in again. Your hands rest on his chest, and he drops his head onto your shoulder.

“Please. Im tired.” Your fingers find his clean locks and you caress him, a bit confused and startled when you feel drops of water wet your shirt. “Baby, are you crying?” You immediately try to pull back -worried- but he grips you harder, forcing you to stay still. You run your hand all across his back with a concerned frown, trying to soothe him. “Talk to me Riki….what happened?”

He shakes his head in your touch and lets out a sob. “Just…missed you too much.” You pull back and cup his cheeks in your palms. His eyes are red now and he looks genuinely sad. “I missed you too baby..don’t cry.” Your thumb swipes away a stray tear from his face and you lean in to kiss him, hoping that he’ll feel better.

He kisses you back with force, inhaling sharply. Its unlike all the other ones which are usually soft and slow - this one is fast, and he presses into you deeper, cupping your face in his hands and moving his lips quickly against yours, as if he’s running out of time.

He desperately leans back in when you pull away for air- and you shoot him a confused smile, tapping his cheek lightly. “Calm down, I’m not gonna go anywhere.” His eyes soften with something you cant quite make out, as if he knows something you don’t. With a peck to his cheek, you untangle yourself from his grip. “Go freshen up, I’ll order takeout and you can tell me all about Netherlands, okay?”

He stiffens and nods, mechanically walking to your bedroom. You plop yourself down on the sofa and start surfing for food, tapping against the screen quietly. Ultimately, you end up ordering from your local chinese place- confirming the payment. Right when you’re about to keep your phone aside, your attention shifts to all the messages you’re receiving.

The curiosity bubbles inside your chest and you click on the messages app, brows furrowing the further you scroll. Why is everyone asking if you’re okay? Why wouldn’t you be? Jungwon’s notification pops on your screen and you tap his name to open the chat.

Wonton 🥟🐱

Holy shit ohmygod did you check the news?

Please don’t

Fuck im so so sorry

Im worried, shit the gc is blowing up

*3 missed calls from Wonton🥟🐱*

Pick up.

*7 missed calls from Wonton🥟🐱*

Shit, please pick up

Are you okay?

Text me as soon as you see this please

Ykw fuck that, im coming over rn

Your fingers hover over the cursor, wondering what exactly is going on. Just as you’re about to type out a reply, the device is yanked away from you. Riki snuggles into your side, wrapping his arms around your body and hoisting you up into his lap. “Focus on me, angel.”

His clean woody scent hits your nostrils, although its very dull. You adjust yourself in his lap, smiling and playing with the ring around his ring finger. “Alright. Tell me everything.”

He talks to you through hushed whispers, always pausing and freezing when you mention doing something for the weekend or suggest going out on a date. You find his behavior very peculiar.

Riki’s never been the type to back out from a date - so whats up with him tonight?

“.….Speaking of flowers…” you interrupt his vivid description of the flower bed he saw. “You didn’t bring any back this time?” Your body turns in his lap, and your eyes lock with his already regretful ones. His hand comes up to tuck your hair behind your ear and he smiles sadly, shaking his head. “I couldn’t.” You pout, humming. “Why?”

How does Riki answer that question? How does he tell you something which isnt his place to tell? So he opts with hugging you tightly, resting his chin on the crown of your head. “I just couldn’t.” You respond with a sigh, nodding gingerly.

He proceeds to tell you about everything he has planned for you in the future - The name of your non-existent baby, his next flights, a trip he wants to take you and Bisco on.

Then- quieter- he asks you about your memories together- if you remember your first kiss, your late night conversations in your apartment, all those all nighters you pulled during final year, your wedding.

“You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen when you walked down that isle.” You raise an eyebrow at his words, playfully pinching his bicep. “Were?”

He smiles and looks at your striking features, before letting out a soft whisper, “Still are.”

You peck his lips and open your mouth to say something, but hecuts you off by gently placing you off his lap and on to the space beside him- standing up to stretch. His actions are mimicked by you, and he sends you a longing smile- moving to kiss the entirety of your face before pulling back. “Ill go to the bathroom and be right back.” You giggle and nod, already missing the warmth on your cheek when his palm drops.

He walks into the dark hallway, out of your vision- and right on cue, the doorbell rings.

You open the door, fully expecting your takeout, but being greeted by a wrecked Jungwon instead. The smile on your face drops, and you usher him inside, voice laced with concern. “Jungwon? What happened?”

His eyes are bloodshot red - presumably from crying. It looks like he’s been running a hand through his hair constantly, judging by the unkempt state of it. You fetch him a glass of water and he stares at you in shock, voice completely hoarse. “…….You didn’t read the news, did you?”

You frown, placing the glass down on the coffee table and tilting your head. “What news?”

He gulps, unable to meet your eyes as fresh tears well up in his own. “Riki….”

You grin at your husband’s name and the boy in front of you stares in horror. “Oh, right! Don’t tell me you’re worried about him, silly! He got home about an hour ago and we’re gonna have dinner soon….you should join us-”

Jungwon firmly grasps your hand, his eyes blown wide in fear and sorrow. “Riki is no more.” The four words ring out loudly, engulfing the quiet apartment.

You rip your hands away from his, staring at him in disbelief and anger. The audacity of him to pronounce your very much living husband dead.

“What the fuck are you talking about?! Riki’s literally in the bathroom right now!”

Jungwon’s eyes soften a fraction and he reaches out - as if you’re a wounded animal, hesitating before wrapping his hands around yours.

“Listen to me, Riki is dead.” His tone seems final.

Your voice raises this time, and you yank him by the wrist, leading him to your bathroom. “You’ve gone crazy Jungwon. I’ve told you so many times to stop consuming so much of those stupid caffeinated drinks-” You slam the door open- only to be greeted by an empty darkness.

The grasp on his wrist loosens and you freeze, mind going blank. What? How could it be? You yourself had seen him go to the room- forget that, you had literally felt him, he’d been with you the entire time!

You take a step back- voice dying in your throat -unable to process whats happening. “How is this possible…..”

Jungwon stills behind you. “No…how is this possible?” You spin around on your heel, eyes crazed and face drained of color. “I saw him Jungwon…he came home-” A gasp for air, “He kissed me. That cant be fake, right? He kissed me and we cuddled and-” You’re grasping his shoulders, shaking him. “Hes alive. Im not crazy, hes alive.”

The boy stares at you in pity, slowly bringing his hands to remove yours from his shoulders - his silent voice slicing through your panicked one -

“Where are his things, then?” You freeze in place, mouth going dry. Where were his things? The living room-

Your feet carry you to the living hall, and only when you stop near the doorway do you remember - You hadn't seen his suitcase.

Your fingers grab the TV remote from the table, hand quivering as you jab in the numbers for the news channel. A bright image of a plane crash pops up, and the news anchor’s voice drills through your ears.

“..……….Decelis Air’s flight number BT340 which had been returning from the Netherlands to South Korea has reportedly crashed whilst landing. The time of accident has been estimated around 17:30PM. Upon initial investigation, it has been determined that there were issues with the aircraft’s control system, causing the vehicle to come down on the runway.

Unfortunately, the authorities have confirmed that there are no survivors. A total of 250 deaths have been estimated, out of which 10 are cabin crew, and two pilots - Lim Dowoon and Nishimura Riki.

My deepest condolences go out to each of the victim’s families…….”

You tune the rest of the noise out as the realization makes you drop to your knees. “No….no…this cant be true..” You shake your head, a sob heaving out of you as you keel over. “He’s not dead, he can’t be dead!” Jungwon switches the TV off and crouches in front of you, pursing his lips. “He’s gone, honey.” Your gaze snaps up at him and you shake your head frantically, eyes and throat burning. “NO!” 

Two arms wrap around you and you shake, clutching his shirt. Jungwon caresses your hair, chin resting on your head as he tries to speak with his own quivering voice. “He didn’t make it. He’s gone.” Your head spins. Its getting harder to breath, and you don’t know what to do. “He’s here Wonnie, Riki’s going to come back to me-” Your vision blurs and you desperately claw at his shirt, gasping for air.

He pulls back in worry, scared due to your behavior. “You’re hyperventilating- breathe for me-” The tears choke up your airway and you feel your consciousness slip. Jungwon’s panicked voice is the last thing you hear before the darkness engulfs you.

“Stop it, angel! My sides hurt!” Riki’s laughter cuts through the gloomy fog and you find yourself smiling. Your phone is propped in your hands, in which a video plays - 19 year old you tickling Riki in your then apartment. Sunoo’s laughter bubbles out from behind the camera, and you yell at him to take a picture of Riki’s red face. The video ends, and only then do you feel hot tears streaming down your face. When did you start crying?

“You were so ticklish.” You swipe off the dust that’s been collecting on the grey rock, and wipe the plating clean.

‘IN LOVING MEMORY

Nishimura Riki

 2005-2032

Here lies the body of a brilliant pilot, caring son, kind friend, and loving husband.’ 

It reads.

 Your hand moves to remove the wilted flowers  off the gravestone and replace them with the fresh lilies you had bought on the way. The white lilies bring color to the depressing atmosphere and a watery sigh slips past you. “Work was hard today, Jason spilled coffee all over Miyeong’s dress and she cried.”

Some might think you’re crazy for talking to yourself. The residents living around the graveyard have been seeing you come to talk to the air for the past 4 years now - always showing up at 17:30. Exact.

“Bisco misses you. He keeps sleeping with your aviator cap. Its kinda filthy now because of his drool and chewing.” You shift. “But whenever I try to take it away he growls at me.” A laugh slips through, and then- softer, “I miss you too…everyday. Especially when I see those plastic flowers in my vase. I wont say its easy to act normal, but I manage.” You purse your lips, restraining yourself from crying as you attempt to joke, “I'm still waiting for those lilies you promised, by the way.”

The wind blows in your face, messing up your neatly done hairstyle. Its like Riki hears you- because a single lily rolls from the grave and into your lap. Your eyes widen at the flower and a small sob makes it way up your throat. “For me?” The wind whistles again- as if answering for Riki.

A watery smile creeps up your face as you will yourself not to break down. The deliberate honk of a car in the distance snaps you out of your emotions, and you whip your head around briefly, before turning back to stare at the tomb in front of you.

“I should go. Jungwon and his wife have to get to little Mirae’s recital. She’s going to be performing solo, and Jungwon will have me by the throat if we’re even a second late.”

You look into your lap again, gently twisting the flower between your fingers. “I….might visit a bit less now. Heeseung says I should cope with other ways.” A pause, and your gaze flicks up. “You wont be too mad, right? I’ll come…just once a week maybe.”

You stand up when the second honk echoes, this time louder. “See you then.” A hand reaches out to pick up your bag- the other one tightly secured around the stem of the lily- and you glance at the gravestone one last time.

 “I love you, Riki.”

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