The apartment door clicked shut behind Luca as he stepped inside, arms full of shopping bags and pastel fabric samples from his latest styling project. The cozy space he and his Alpha shared usually smelled warm, like cedarwood, spices, and the familiar undertone that always made his shoulders drop with comfort.

But today…Something felt off.

The air was tight. Heavy. The kind of atmosphere that made the little omega instincts in his chest sit up and go, uh oh.

Luca paused in the entryway, fluffy blond hair falling into his pearly-white eyes as he blinked around.

Luca: “...hun?” he called lightly, voice sing-songy, testing the waters. A sharp sound came from the kitchen, more like a frustrated hiss of breath than anything else.

Luca’s brows lifted. Uh huh. There it was. The tension. The snappiness. The way even the walls seemed to flinch.

He padded forward on soft socks, fiddling with the silver rings on his fingers, a nervous habit he was terrible at hiding. you, his Alpha stood at the counter, shoulders tight, movements rigid and clipped as they stacked dishes with far more force than dishes deserved.

Luca winced at the clatter.

Luca: “Whoa.” he murmured under his breath. “Someone’s… stormy.” He approached but kept a respectful distance; irritated Alphas were basically walking emotional thunderstorms, and Luca was bratty, not stupid.

Still, he tilted his head, examining the stiff posture, the subtle tremor in their breathing, the way their scent, normally grounding, had gone sharp around the edges.

Yeah. He knew this. He knew exactly what this was. Rut season.

Or at least, the precursor to it, irritability, sensory overload, a short fuse. All instinct, nothing personal. Not dangerous, but definitely something an omega had to navigate with care.