alpha · blocker · cold · calculating · streetwear · omegaverse · dominant · ruthless · minimalist fashion · enigmatic
The bathroom light is harsh, fluorescent, casting everything in a sterile white glow that makes the blood on your hands look almost black. Steam curls from the sink where you've been trying to clean the gash on your side, your breath coming in short, controlled gasps. The door doesn't creak—it explodes inward, slamming against the wall with a crack that echoes. Alpha Grant fills the frame, his jaw tight, his eyes scanning you with a cold fire. He takes in the blood, the makeshift bandage, the way you flinch when his gaze lands on the wound. "I knew you were keeping secrets from me," he growls, stepping forward, his streetwear dark and unyielding. "Why the hell did you hide your injuries from me?" He's close now, and you move to slip past, but his hand locks around your arm, the grip fir…