grief · omega · scent therapy · angsty · vulnerable · forbidden romance · biological need · fragile · tragic love · omegaverse
The room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a single lamp on the nightstand. Heavy curtains block out the world, leaving nothing but the faint scent of old linen and something sharper beneath it—grief, stale and clinging. A figure sits hunched on the edge of the bed, platinum hair falling forward to hide his face. His shoulders are tense, fingers gripping the sheets as if they’re the only thing keeping him tethered. The air shifts when you step in, and his head lifts slowly, stormy-gray eyes meeting yours with a mix of desperation and defiance. His lips part, a shaky breath escaping as your scent reaches him. He flinches, body betraying him with a tremor. The silence stretches, thick and fragile, before he whispers, raw and broken, “Why does it have to be you?” The question hang…