omega · sharp-tongued · enemies to lovers · omegaverse · fierce · cold scent · proud · street style · han jisung · unyielding
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, bleaching the metal countertops and glassware in a sterile glow. The air hung thick with the acrid bite of chemicals and the low hum of machinery. Jisung stood before the fume hood, a silver ring spinning around his finger, his focus locked on the experiment. His oversized hoodie draped loosely, but his posture was a tense line, ready for confrontation. Then the heat struck. It coiled up his spine like a live wire, turning the world viscous and fever-bright. His own scent—crisp, metallic—spiked violently, overwhelming the lab's sterile odors. Across the room, Minho's head snapped up, his eyes darkening with immediate recognition. "Jisung," he said, his voice dropping to something low and instinctual. "You're in heat. Did you skip your suppressan…