By the second month of the semester, everyone in school had grown accustomed to the trio. Altair, Levi, and Cassian together were no longer an odd sight but a staple entertainment. Whenever the three walked the halls, a little crowd of whispers followed—Levi's easy charm, Cassian's quiet intensity, and Altair's endless antics forming a dynamic no one could look away from.
"They're like a play we get to watch live," one girl whispered.
"More like a circus," her friend replied.
"Correction: a circus with one clown," another added, earning muffled laughter.
Altair, oblivious as always, strutted on, tossing his scarf dramatically as though the wind were his stagehand.
It was a warm afternoon when the three of them sat under the shade of the large acacia tree by the school field. Their class had been tasked with preparing a booth for the upcoming cultural festival, but for now the work was paused. Cassian leaned against the trunk with a book in hand, his long fingers flipping pages with steady rhythm. Levi sprawled comfortably on the grass, humming lightly, while Altair perched like a bird on the low branch, swinging his legs.
"Why do I always get stuck with you two during breaks?" Altair said, flicking imaginary dust from his sleeve. "It ruins my mystique."
"You don't have mystique," Cassian replied without looking up.
"I have plenty," Altair countered, eyes narrowing. "You're just blind."
Levi chuckled, rummaging in his bag. "You'll need energy for all that drama, Altair. Lucky for you, I brought something."
He pulled out a warm container and opened it to reveal golden-brown balls of takoyaki. The savory scent drifted through the air, instantly catching Altair's attention.
"Takoyaki?" Altair asked, eyes gleaming despite his attempt at nonchalance.
"Yep," Levi said with a grin. "But not octopus. Special recipe from my mom."
"Octopus or not, who cares?" Altair scoffed, already reaching for one. "Food is food. Hand it over."
Cassian's brow lifted slightly. He set his book down and accepted a skewer when Levi offered it, but instead of eating immediately, he inspected it, lips pressed into a faint line. Altair, however, had no such caution.
"Mmm!" he exclaimed, taking a huge bite. "Delicious! Finally, Levi, you've done something useful with your existence."
Levi laughed, popping one into his own mouth. "Glad you like it."
Altair didn't stop at one. He devoured another, then another, humming exaggeratedly with every bite. "Marvelous! Exceptional! This is the peak of culinary—" He froze.
His throat burned. His chest tightened.
Cassian noticed instantly. "Altair?"
Altair's hand flew to his neck. His breathing came in ragged, shallow pulls. His face drained of color, then flushed an alarming red. "I—can't—"
Cassian shot to his feet. "You idiot. You're allergic."
He hadn't even touched his own skewer before he tossed it aside. His palm cracked against the back of Levi's head, sharp and sudden. "Shrimp?! You knew he can't eat that!"
Levi's eyes widened in shock. "I—what? I didn't—"
But Cassian wasn't listening anymore. He crouched beside Altair, his expression hardening as Altair gasped, clutching his chest.
"Cassian—" Altair choked out, panic clear in his wide eyes. "Can't… breathe…"
There wasn't a moment's hesitation. Cassian scooped Altair into his arms, lifting him effortlessly. "Hold on," he said, voice low but firm. "You're not going anywhere."
And then he ran.
The field blurred around them. Students parted in alarm as Cassian sprinted across the grounds, Altair limp against his chest. But more suffocating than the scene itself was the aura spilling from Cassian—his pheromones, raw and unrestrained, flooding the air like a storm. Omegas nearby shuddered, clutching their chests, and even Alphas staggered under the weight of it.
"Too strong—" someone gasped, covering their nose.
"What's happening?!" another whispered, voice tight with fear.
But Cassian didn't stop. His eyes were locked forward, jaw clenched, every step heavy with controlled urgency. Altair's shallow breaths pressed against his collarbone, each one weaker than the last.
By the time they burst into the school clinic, the nurse was already on her feet, startled by the oppressive pheromones that seeped into the room. Her eyes widened when she saw them.
"You again?" she said sharply, rushing forward. "What happened this time?"
"Allergic reaction," Cassian snapped, lowering Altair onto the bed with painstaking care. His voice was calm, but his aura burned hotter than fire. "Shrimp."
The nurse didn't waste another word. She reached for her kit, pulling out an emergency injector and preparing the dosage with quick, practiced movements. Cassian hovered by Altair's side, one hand gripping his wrist as though to tether him to the world.
"Stay awake," Cassian muttered under his breath, leaning close. "Do you hear me, Altair? Don't you dare close your eyes."
Altair's lashes fluttered, his face pale, but his lips curved weakly. "Bossy… as ever…"
"Shut up," Cassian said, the words tight, almost breaking.
The nurse injected the medicine, and slowly—agonizingly slowly—Altair's breathing began to ease. His color returned by fractions, his grip on Cassian's sleeve loosening as exhaustion dragged him under.
"He'll be fine," the nurse said finally, exhaling. "The medicine will stabilize him. He just needs rest."
Cassian's shoulders sagged, the tension in his body releasing just enough for him to lower himself into the chair beside the bed. He stayed silent as the nurse tidied up, his gaze never leaving Altair's sleeping face.
The faint rise and fall of Altair's chest was the only sound that mattered.
Cassian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His hand hovered near Altair's, close enough to touch but never quite daring. His expression was unreadable, but in the stillness of the clinic, the weight of his fear lingered like an echo.
For once, there was no smirk, no mask of superiority. Only quiet vigilance.
And so he waited.
Waited for Altair to open his eyes again.