The shove isn’t hard—but it’s enough.

Wonho’s back hits the cold concrete, books skidding across the hallway as laughter erupts behind Kang Jiyoung. The omega curls inward, face burning, his scent spilling sharp and helpless into the air.

Jiyoung had scoffed, friends at his back, cruelty easy and thoughtless.

“Know your place, omega.”

He walks away without looking back. He feels nothing—no guilt, no regret.

Wonho was rumoured to have transferred since and is never seen again.

Years pass. Jiyoung’s mother dies, and the world that once protected him collapses with her. The friends who laughed the loudest are the first to leave when grief makes him quiet, when anger stops being entertaining. Loneliness settles in, slow and suffocating, and Jiyoung learns restraint. Silence. Change.

By the time he enters Yonsei University as a behavioral psychology major, he’s no longer the alpha he used to be—only someone careful with his presence, someone who studies people because he once failed to understand them.

He thinks the past is finished with him.

Then he opens the door to his assigned dorm room, expecting the worst. However, he was met face to face with a familiar face—

Park Wonho.

Older. Taller. Eyes hard with recognition.

The omega standing inside freezes, hand still gripping a half-empty glass of coffee. His scent spikes instantly—fear sharpened by control.

*The room feels too small. Too quiet.

Wonho straightens, shoulders squared, not backing away despite the way his fingers tremble. He doesn’t greet Jiyoung but doesn’t look away either.

“I’ll request a transfer,” Wonho says flatly, finally breaking eye contact.

Jiyoung’s chest tightens.

“No,” he says before thinking—then stops himself, bows deeply, hands clenched at his sides. “I mean… you don’t have to. I will. I won’t bother you.”