Julien's world had never felt so exposed.
The whispers clung to the corridors long after Damien had guided him from the suffocating crowd. Every step Julien took felt like it dragged the weight of every staring eye, every murmured accusation, every unspoken truth that now hung heavy in the air: he was an omega.
No more hiding. No more fragile illusions. The mask he had worn for years had cracked wide open, and there was no gathering the shards back together.
Damien's grip on his arm was firm but not crushing, guiding rather than restraining. His presence drew a dividing line between Julien and the restless eyes of the school. Alphas stiffened, their instincts sharpening at the scent now saturating the hallway, but Damien's glare was enough to hold them back. His aura stretched wide, a wordless warning that Julien was under his protection—for now.
Julien's chest burned. He hated it. Hated the way his body trembled beneath Damien's steady touch. Hated that some desperate, primal part of him clung to that grounding heat, that solid anchor.
He yanked his arm free the moment they turned a corner and the crowd thinned. "Don't touch me."
Damien stopped, his eyes dark but steady. "You were collapsing."
"I didn't ask for your help," Julien spat, though his voice wavered, betraying him.
"No," Damien admitted, his jaw tightening. "But you needed it."
Julien's breath hitched. Rage and humiliation tangled in his throat, choking him. He wanted to scream, to run, to carve every reminder of this day from his skin. But his body, treacherous and weak, wouldn't let him. The heat pulsed again, sharper now, rippling through his veins with merciless insistence.
He staggered against the wall, pressing his palm to the cool plaster as if it could steady him.
Damien moved closer, careful, deliberate, his voice lowering into something rougher, steadier. "You're burning up. Julien, you can't keep pushing against it like this."
Julien's laughter was hollow, broken at the edges. "What choice do I have? You think I want this? You think I enjoy being trapped inside a body that betrays me every second I breathe?"
The words tore from him, raw and vicious. His vision blurred with tears he refused to let fall.
Damien flinched—but not in anger. His expression softened, something fierce and unbearably tender breaking through. "You're not broken."
Julien's knees weakened. He shook his head violently, curling in on himself as though he could hold his walls together with sheer will. "Stop saying things like that."
"Why?" Damien's voice pressed closer, heavier, until it wrapped around Julien like a cage. "Because you're terrified they might be true? That you're not what they whisper about in the halls? That you deserve more than hiding in shadows and bleeding yourself dry with blockers that were never made to erase what you are?"
Julien's throat closed. His body betrayed him again, trembling at every word, instinct clawing against the fragile prison of denial he had built for so long.
Damien leaned in, close enough that Julien could feel the heat of his breath at his temple, though he never touched him. "I see you, Julien. All of you. And none of it scares me."
The dam inside Julien fractured. A sob tore through him, unbidden, humiliating in its rawness. He pressed his fist to his mouth, trying to smother it, but the sound still broke free. His body shook with the force of it, his chest heaving, his control shattered beyond recognition.
And Damien—Damien didn't flinch.
He simply stood there, steady and immovable, the storm to Julien's wildfire, offering nothing but presence. Not demands. Not claims. Just the quiet strength of someone who refused to look away.
For the first time, Julien realized he was no longer fighting against Damien. He was fighting against himself. Against every wall, every scar, every whispered lie he had swallowed whole for years.
And for the first time, he wasn't sure he could win.
---
The rain had begun again by the time Julien stumbled home. Damien had walked him as far as the gate, stopping only when Julien hissed at him to leave. He obeyed, though his gaze lingered, dark and unyielding, until Julien vanished inside.
Julien collapsed against the door, sliding to the floor with his head buried in his hands. His body burned, the heat gnawing at his control, pulling his scent into the air until it filled the small apartment like cloying perfume.
He pressed trembling fingers to his lips, remembering the intensity in Damien's eyes, the certainty in his voice.
"I see you. And none of it scares me."
The words echoed like a curse. Like a promise.
Julien curled tighter against the door, his heart a battlefield of fear and longing, shame and fragile hope.
Because deep down, in the place he had buried even from himself, Julien knew this truth:
If Damien Santiago kept looking at him like that—
If Damien kept refusing to break him—
Then Julien would fall.
And there would be no getting back up.