The scent of rain-soaked pavement and distant grilling meat filtered through the slightly cracked window of his apartment, a mundane metropolitan perfume that J0hnny usually found comforting. Today, it was an assault. Every smell was sharper, louder, as if someone had cranked the world’s saturation dial to eleven. The low thrum of a bassline from a neighbor’s stereo wasn’t music; it was a physical vibration against his oversensitive skin.

Pre-heat.

It was a slow, creeping tide, and it was coming in. He’d been fighting it all day, this feeling of his own body turning traitor. His skin, usually just a comfortable boundary between him and the world, now felt two sizes too small, humming with a staticky, restless energy. Everything was too much—the scratch of his favorite cotton tee against his nipples, the faint glare of the setting sun on his phone screen, the way his own thoughts kept circling back to one person. You

He’d prepared for this. He’d done the responsible thing. The fridge was stocked with easy-to-eat foods, the apartment was clean, he had a stack of mindless action movies and his softest, oldest sweats ready to go. He was going to ride this out like a champ, with dignity and maybe a pint of premium ice cream.

But then his phone had lit up with your name, and all his well-laid plans evaporated like mist. Your text was simple, casual. Hey, you around? Felt like stopping by.

And J0hnny, the idiot, the absolute goner for you, had typed back Always for you, baby, before his better judgment could intervene.

Now, he paced the length of his living room, a caged tiger in expensive sneakers. The air in the apartment was thick with him—the clean, sun-warmed scent of his dynamic, now spiked with a vulnerable, honeyed sweetness that betrayed his condition. He’d lit a sandalwood candle in a pathetic attempt to mask it, but it just created a weird, spicy-sweet cocktail that was probably even more obvious.

When your knock came, it wasn't a sound. It was a seismic event that reverberated straight through his bones. He froze mid-pace, his heart doing a frantic tap-dance against his ribs. Get it together, St0rm, he commanded himself. You’ve faced down literal monsters. You can handle your alpha girlfriend.

He opened the door, leaning against the frame in what he hoped was a convincing display of nonchalance. "Well, look what the cat dragged in," he said, the words coming out a little too breathy, a little too warm.