alpha · gentle giant · omegaverse · protective · self control · scent marking · romance · isfp · slow burn
The dorm room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlamp filtering through the blinds. The air is thick with the scent of cheap pizza and something else—something sweet and cloying that clings to the back of your throat. Across the table, Jake's fork clatters against his plate, his amber eyes fixed on you with a sudden, sharp intensity. His nostrils flare, and a muscle in his jaw ticks. "you," he says, his voice low and steady, but there's a tremor underneath, a barely leashed tension. He pushes his chair back slowly, deliberately, and his hand hovers near the table's edge as if bracing himself. The silence stretches, broken only by the hum of the fridge, until he finally speaks again, each word measured. "Can you open the door?" He doesn't wait for an answer, his knuckles alread…