Won, the heart of the room, stood before the cake with that signature soft smile, his hands trembling slightly from excitement or perhaps just the awareness of how many eyes were on him. And standing right beside him, practically inseparable, was Jonah. Their arms pressed together from shoulder to elbow like they'd been glued there since freshman year. Around them, phones were already raised, capturing the moment for stories and posts that would flood feeds within minutes. It was always like this with Won, every moment worth documenting, every smile worth sharing.

Everyone adored Won. It wasn’t hard to see why, he was the kind of person who helped everyone without hesitation, who made people feel like they mattered. But yeah… that also means teachers and students dump all their work on him, knowing he wouldn’t refuse. It was like people were taking advantage of his kindness.

That’s where Jonah came in. Whether it was giving Won the perfect excuse to escape or outright rejecting requests on his behalf, Jonah always had his back. He made sure Won didn’t drown in obligations, no matter how tricky the situation.

“Okay, okay, everyone gathered?” Riri called out, phone already recording as she maneuvered through the crowd. “The birthday boy is about to cut his cake!”

Won laughed, that airy, musical sound that made people around them smile, and reached for the knife resting beside the cake. But before his fingers could close around the handle, Jonah's hand darted out and caught his wrist.

“Hold on,” Jonah said, tilting his head with a knowing smile. “You're not doing this alone, you know.”

“Aw, look at them!” Someone cooed from the crowd. “The twins!”

Their hands entwined around the cake knife like it was a natural thing, like they were one entity being celebrated together in this moment.

Won leaned slightly into him, whispering, “Don’t let me cut it crooked, okay?”

Jonah snorted softly, nudging him playfully with his shoulder. “You? Crooked? Impossible. But if you mess it up, I’ll pretend I didn’t see.”

First slice went through the cake a little unevenly, but no one cared. The room burst into cheers anyway, a loud chorus of claps and whistles that made Won laugh.

After that, the party simply… continued.

Won's home had transformed into a warm haven of celebration, with fairy lights draped along stair railings and polaroid pictures scattered across every flat surface.

Music played softly from somewhere in the living room, just loud enough to fill the quiet spaces between conversations. Clusters of people spread out across the rooms.

Some stood near the decorations taking pictures, posing under the “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” banner, holding up peace signs, dragging Won into selfies every few minutes. Others leaned against tables or kitchen counters, sipping the fruit juice that had been poured into clear glasses. A few balanced plates with neat slices of vanilla cake, pink frosting smudging at the edges where they’d already taken bites.

They were all friends from the university, including classmates, seniors, and people Won had helped at one point or another. The kind of crowd that filled a house quickly and brought a hundred different scents with them.

Which was exactly why Jonah had retreated. The main hallway had become unbearable; too many Alphas, too many strong pheromones mixing together until his head felt fuzzy. So he’d quietly slipped away to a couch in another room, where the air felt calmer.

Now he sat curled comfortably in the corner of the couch with two of his friends, both girls were Omegas just like him.

The three of them were half-whispering, half-laughing over some ridiculous story about a professor who had once fallen asleep during his own lecture.

“And then,” one of the girls continued dramatically, “he started snoring in front of the whole class—”

Jonah covered his mouth, shoulders shaking with laughter. “No he didn’t.”

“I swear he did!”

“Stop lying.”

“I’m not lying—”

Their argument was cut short when someone stepped into the room.

“Why are you three hiding here like secret agents?”

The familiar voice made them all pause.

Won stood there with a tray laden balanced carefully in his hands, three glasses of juice wobbling slightly as he walked closer. His cheeks were still faintly pink from the earlier excitement, and a tiny dot of frosting stubbornly clung near the corner of his lip.

“Because,” Jonah said, stretching his arms lazily along the back of the couch, “unlike some people, we value our sanity. The hallway smells like a wolf convention.”

One of the girls snorted.

Won blinked at him, amused. “Rude.”

He lowered the tray toward them. “I brought drinks before you complain that I’m a terrible host.”

That immediately caught Jonah’s attention. On the tray sat three glasses filled with vibrant liquid. One was a soft, blushing pink that caught the light like a liquid sunrise, placed between two orange drinks. Jonah's eyes snagged on that pink glass immediately, his lips curving into a small smile.

‘That was definitely biased,’ Jonah mused inwardly. Without even pretending to hesitate, he reached forward and picked up the pink glass.

“Mine.”

Won huffed a quiet laugh. “Obviously,”

The girls grabbed the other two glasses without complaint.

“Honestly,” one of them muttered, sipping her orange juice, “the orange one is generic. The pink one is totally Jonah.”

Hearing that, Won shook his head, smiling helplessly, before placing the empty tray on the small table beside the couch.

Without another word, he settled next to Jonah on the couch. The couch dipped slightly under his weight, their shoulders bumping together as he leaned back with a tired sigh.

Jonah glanced sideways at him. “Tired already?”

“You try hosting forty people in your own house.” Won muttered.

Jonah hummed thoughtfully, swirling the pink juice in his glass. “Hmm… no thanks.”

Conversation drifted lazily after that, flowing from one random topic to another without really settling anywhere.

Jonah sipped his peach juice slowly, letting the sweetness linger on his tongue. The glass was cool against his palms, condensation beading along the surface like tiny pearls.

Then something niggled at the back of his mind.

He couldn’t place it at first. It wasn’t obvious, nothing loud or wrong or out of place. Just… something missing. Like a detail his brain had skipped over earlier but was now circling back to.

His brows pulled together slightly. “…Wait.” he said slowly, his voice cutting through whatever story the girls had moved on to.

Won, who had just leaned forward to grab one of the napkins from the table, paused faintly. Jonah tilted his head, looking at him over the rim of his now almost-empty glass.

“Where’s your sister?”

For a single, suspended moment, Won didn't move at all, didn't breathe, didn't blink, didn't react.

A millisecond. Maybe two. Then his hand completed its journey. “Hmm?” he hummed, like he hadn’t heard properly, picking up the napkin and folding it once. “Oh—her?”

Jonah didn’t respond immediately. He just watched him.

Won let out a small breath, still not quite meeting his eyes. “She’s… out,” his voice was light, almost convincing. “With her friends. They planned some trip. Outside the country, I think.”

He shrugged lightly, finally sitting back again, resting his forearms on his knees and loosely clasping his hands together. “Yeah. That’s why she couldn’t make it.”

One of the girls nodded like it made perfect sense. “Ahh, that explains it.”

But Jonah didn’t nod. His eyes stayed on Won’s face, sharp in a way that didn’t match his relaxed posture. Because that tiny, almost invisible hesitation says otherwise.

He slowly lowered his glass, the last of the peach juice gone, and leaned forward just enough to place it back on the tray sitting on the table.

A faint wave of dizziness brushed past him as he straightened again, light, fleeting, but he ignored it completely. His focus was elsewhere now.

He leaned back into the couch, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. “…Outside the country?” Jonah repeated, voice soft.

Won nodded, still not looking at him. “Mhm.”

“Where?”

Won’s fingers shifted against each other. “Didn’t ask,” he said, a little too quickly.

Jonah’s eyes narrowed just slightly. ‘Since when did Won not ask things like that?’ The thought settled in his chest like a stone.

“You didn’t tell me she wouldn’t be here,” he said under his breath.

Won blinked, like he needed a second to process. “Uh—anyway,” he said, quickly steering away from the question, his voice bright but forced. “did you guys try the cake? I told the bakery to use extra vanilla in the frosting. It's my secret weapon.”

One of the girls, thankfully oblivious, picked up on the shift in topic with clear relief. “Oh my God, yes, it’s so good. I need the recipe.”

Sudden shift in conversation was obvious and it only made that tight feeling in Jonah's chest pull tighter. He wasn't going to let this go, not when something felt so clearly wrong.

“Won,” he said sharply, deliberately cutting through the cake conversation the girls had latched onto. “That's not what I—”

One moment Jonah was sitting on the couch, mouth forming words. The next, the room seemed to lurch sideways, like someone had grabbed the edges of his vision and given them a violent shake. A sharp, throbbing pain stabbed behind his eyes—sudden and vicious, nothing like the mild dizziness he felt moments ago.

“—asking about,” he tried to finish, but the words came out wrong, slurred at the edges.

Then his hand flew to his head, fingers pressing against his temple as a pained yelp escaped his lips before he could stop it. “Ah—”

“Jonah?”

Won’s voice changed completely. It was sharp with immediate concern.

“Jonah, what's wrong?”

Jonah squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe through the pounding in his skull. It felt like someone was driving small needles into his brain, each pulse of blood making it worse. His other hand came up to grip his forehead, fingers digging in as if he could physically press the pain away.

“My head,” he managed, voice thin and strained. “I-It hurts. I don't—I don't feel good.”

“Hey, hey.” Won's hands were on him instantly, one bracing his shoulder, the other hovering near his face like he wasn't sure where to touch, how to help. “Look at me. Jonah, look at me.”

One of the girls leaned forward, her face creased with worry. “Jonah, you're really pale.”

“Should we get someone?” Another girl asked, already half-rising from the couch.

“No,” Won said firmly. “That'll just make it worse.”

Jonah felt Won's hands shift, one arm sliding around his back and the other around his wrist, gently but decisively pulling him up from the couch.

“Where are you taking him, Won?” one of the girls asked.

Won didn’t hesitate. “He needs rest,” he said simply, steady enough that no one pushed back. “It’s too loud here. He’s probably just overwhelmed.”

He glanced down at Jonah, whose eyes were still squeezed shut, whose body was leaning more and more heavily against him. “I'm taking him home.”

The girls exchanged a quick, worried glance behind them.

“Text us when he’s okay,” one of them said quickly.

“And make sure he drinks water,” the other added, voice laced with concern. “Jonah, don’t ignore it, okay?”

Jonah tried to respond. Only managed a small nod.

Won adjusted his hold slightly, as he guided him carefully toward the door. “Let’s go,” he murmured.

To be continued...