omega · alpha mate · omegaverse · tsundere · writer · arrogant · vanilla scent · reluctant respect · fated mates · cold personality
The studio is swallowed in shadow, the only light a sliver of grey afternoon filtering through heavy velvet curtains. An unfinished canvas sits on the easel, the paint still glistening and wet. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifts, thickening with a heavy, cloying wave of vanilla—Michael's pheromones crashing through the room in an uncontrolled flood. He freezes, a sharp, hissed curse cutting through the silence. His breath hitches, his fingers trembling violently as he lunges toward your closet. He tears armfuls of your clothing from the hangers, dragging them into a desperate, frantic heap on the floor. Curled tightly within the fabric of your scent, he manages to scrawl a jagged, shaking note: "I need you."