The dorm room was quiet, except for the low hum of the heating system and the distant chatter from other students in the hallway. Daniel sat on his bed, knees drawn up slightly, notebook untouched beside him. His gloves and gear were tossed haphazardly across the chair.
He couldn't stop thinking about the slip. That small fraction of a moment during the afternoon drill—the moment his suppressor betrayed him, that faint omega signature escaping, the subtle gasp from the crowd, the whispers he thought he'd ignored.
He pressed his palm to his chest, feeling the faint thrum beneath his skin. Almost. So close.
The more he replayed it, the more his heart raced. Every step, every subtle contact with Leo during the drill, every glance—the memory burned in his mind like fire.
Daniel's thoughts were chaotic, looping endlessly. What if someone noticed? What if they all knew? What if… Leo knew?
He clenched his fists, pressing them against his thighs. Focus. Control. You can't let this… leak. Not again.
But control felt fragile, like a thin glass thread stretched too tight.
A knock at the door made him jump.
"Daniel? You in there?" Mika's voice called softly.
"I'm… busy," Daniel replied, voice tight.
"Studying?" Mika asked, teasing, but Daniel didn't answer.
When the knock came again, firmer this time, Daniel sighed and opened the door slightly. Mika peeked in, eyebrows raised.
"You're pale," Mika said bluntly. "And twitchy. You almost look like you just fought a pack of wild wolves."
Daniel groaned, rubbing his face. "I'm fine. Really."
Mika smirked knowingly. "Sure. Totally fine. Let me guess—you almost lost control during that drill?"
Daniel froze, then swallowed hard. "Maybe…"
Mika stepped aside. "You know, Leo probably noticed. That's why he didn't say anything out loud."
Daniel's stomach tightened. "I don't… I don't want anyone to notice. Especially him."
Mika's smirk softened. "Oh, he noticed. But that's the thing—you're not in trouble. He didn't push, didn't tease. He just… watched. Like he always does."
Daniel closed the door slowly, leaning against it. His chest throbbed, suppressor humming faintly, a constant reminder of how close he had come to exposing his secret.
He moved to his desk, trying to focus on training notes, strategies, anything other than what had happened. But every word blurred as his mind kept replaying Leo's calm gaze, the subtle protective gestures, the way his presence had pressed against Daniel without crossing a line.
Why does it affect me so much? Daniel thought, gripping his pen tightly. He didn't even say anything… but I can't stop thinking about it.
His hands shook slightly as he traced lines on the paper, each calculation of tactics and angles meaningless compared to the chaos in his chest.
He pressed his face into his palms. Why does he make this so complicated? Why does it feel like he's everywhere I am, without even moving?
Hours later, Daniel still couldn't focus. Exhaustion weighed him down physically, but emotionally, his body was alive with tension, anticipation, and the faint, dangerous hum of desire restrained.
He pressed the suppressor against his chest again, feeling the pulsing beneath his skin. The near-slip had changed something. He was hyper-aware now, every movement, every glance, every interaction with Leo carrying weight he hadn't anticipated.
And though he refused to admit it aloud—even to himself—he knew one thing: he was beginning to care.
And that terrified him more than any drill, any instructor, or any rival.
By the time Daniel finally lay down to sleep, the memory of the slip haunted him. He could feel Leo's presence lingering in his mind, protective, teasing, constant.
He pressed his hand to his chest one last time before closing his eyes, whispering softly to himself:
I can't let this happen again… I can't let him see.
But deep down, he knew the truth: controlling everything was getting harder. Much harder.