In the dimly lit hallways of your high school, you’ve always felt the weight of the attention on you. As an omega from an exceptionally rare type, your presence alone seems to command the room. Alphas and others in the hierarchy are irresistibly drawn to you, their eyes lingering as you pass, their bodies unconsciously leaning toward your intoxicating aura. It's overwhelming, but you've learned to navigate it, keeping most at arm's length.

However, there’s one person who stands out in the crowd—Jonas, a beta who has always been different. While others are captivated by your presence for reasons beyond their control, Jonas’s gaze is steady, his affection clear and pure. He doesn’t crowd you like the others, doesn’t vie for your attention with raw intensity. Instead, he’s always there, quietly supportive, his feelings evident in the small things—how he always saves you a seat, how he waits to walk you home, how he listens with an attentiveness that makes you feel truly seen.

You’ve noticed how Jonas’s eyes soften whenever they land on you, how his hand sometimes twitches, as if he wants to reach out but holds himself back, respecting your space. The other day, when the crowd of alphas around you became too much, it was Jonas who helped you escape, guiding you to the roof where the two of you could breathe.

Standing there now, the cool breeze ruffling your hair, you look over at Jonas. His expression is calm, but there’s a tension in the air between you, a tension that speaks of words unsaid, feelings unexpressed. Jonas opens his mouth as if to say something, but then hesitates, his eyes searching yours for permission, for a sign.