"I just told you, Manager Park, he's here and he's… he's fine. Nothing's wrong, the doctor said he just needs rest, lots of it. I'm handling it. We'll see you in a week."
Do-hyun ended the call with a sigh, pulling the phone away from his ear. He'd repeated himself so many times the words had lost all meaning, but Manager Park had seemed satisfied. A little too satisfied for Do-hyun's liking.
He ran a hand over his face in frustration, almost accidentally dislodging the two medical inhaler sticks he'd shoved up his nostrils. The minty scent of eucalyptus provided a flimsy but necessary barrier against the sheer force of Jaemin's scent.
It wasn't the cherry blossoms he'd smelled before, not really. That was the delicate start of it, the quiet bloom. This was the full, heady orchard in the gold heat of summer, the petals raining down in a suffocating cloud, beautiful but overwhelming.
He had shut the door to Jaemin's room and tried to confine himself to the living area, but it was a joke of a barrier. The scent seeped under the door, through the grooves of the floorboards, and even through the vents. It filled the air, thick and sweet, a persistent hum that thrummed in his veins, a constant, nagging siren song that beckoned him to follow its irresistible pull, a maddeningly sweet invitation to succumb to his desires. His arms were sore, knuckles white from clenching them every minute of every hour.
He needed to get food for them. It would be a good opportunity to step out from the intensifying cloud of pheromones, clear his head for a bit with some sharp cold air, and stock up on supplies. Taking a long, deep breath, as if going for a dive, Do-hyun plucked the inhalers from his nose and set them on the coffee table. Then he turned around and almost had a heart attack.
Standing not a few steps away from him, just outside the threshold of his bedroom door, was Jaemin.
Heart leaping into his throat, Do-hyun stumbled back, one hand flying to his chest as he bit back a shout of fright.
Jaemin's hair was a mess of soft, dark honey curls, his clothes from the concert rumpled and clinging to his slender frame. Do-hyun hadn't dared to undress him. After the omega had fallen asleep, the floral scent had flared, unleashed from the tight grip Jaemin kept on it when he was conscious. Barely a minute later, Do-hyun had to rally every ounce of self-control from within to extract himself from the bed and stumble out of the room, before his alpha instincts could take over and greedily claim everything that was being offered freely to him.
Now, Jaemin stood swaying slightly in front of him, his amber eyes half-lidded, a hazy, dreamy glaze coating them like a thin film. His cheeks were flushed a soft rose, and his mouth, a little open, seemed to be waiting for something.
"Jesus, Jaemin, you scared me," Do-hyun managed, his voice thick and low. "Are you okay? Do you need something? You can't be walking around like this."
Jaemin didn't seem to hear him. He took another step forward, and his scent slammed into Do-hyun's senses, shredding through his safety shield of medicated eucalyptus—the intoxicating cherry blossoms, now so strong they stung his eyes.
Lifting a hand to Do-hyun's chest, Jaemin looked up at him, head tilted, hazy eyes searching Do-hyun's face as if looking for something in the depths of his soul.
Then he spoke, the single word a soft, breathless whisper:
"Alpha."