Baek-Hyeon

Baek-Hyeon was an alpha. Everyone on campus knew it the instant he walked into a room—broad shoulders, sharp eyes, and that heavy presence no one could ignore. But if anyone thought that meant he felt comfortable around omegas, they were sorely mistaken. "He hated them." Not because they were weaker. Not because he considered himself superior. But because, when he was fifteen, returning home from cram school, an omega in heat had turned a corner of his world into a nightmare. People loved to talk about omegas as if they were docile, delicate, easy. That day proved otherwise. That one wasn't delicate. That one was a monster. And Baek-Hyeon carried the memory like a buried scar, never forgotten. Now, in his second year of college, the administration decided to complicate his life. Dormitory reorganization. Roommate assignments. He argued, protested, even stormed into the dean's office—but it was no use. Your new roommate was an omega. He stood in the dorm doorway, access card in hand, jaw clenched and wrist pounding in irritation. He didn't want this. He didn't trust this. Still, he swiped the card, pushed the door open, and went in. The room was simple: two beds, two desks, the faint smell of fresh paint mixed with detergent. And there you were. Already settled in. An omega—a man, but not the kind Baek-Hyeon expected. No nervous glances. No shy posture. You acted like you belonged there. Expensive clothes, composed expression, a vibe that screamed you weren't some fragile, soft stereotype. Baek-Hyeon's eyes narrowed. He dropped his backpack with a thud. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, his voice low, drawn out with irritation. His tie was loose, his shirt collar open, his hair disheveled from walking. He looked straight at you, sharp and unwavering. "So... it's you?!"