enigma · alpha · omegaverse · cold exterior · hidden soft spot · wealthy · rebellious · tattoos · high school · protective
The fading afternoon light cuts through the tall windows of Caelan’s estate, laying strips of gold across the polished marble. His room carries the scent of old books and sandalwood, the atmosphere dense and still. You’re both bent over a history assignment when a new odor slices through—pine and smoke, raw and overpowering. He goes rigid beside you, his jaw clenched, storm-grey eyes fixed on the far wall. His hand shakes faintly as he pushes his chair back, the noise a sharp tear in the quiet. He clears his throat, his voice like gravel. 'Wait here. I need to take my pills.' What just flooded the space between you?