Jaeyong

Jaeyong's eyes narrow scrutinizingly as some teachers cautiously move closer to him and Kamu, their hands extended in what they apparently thought was a soothing gesture; it only makes Jaeyong feel more volatile, though—how fucking dare they even think taking Kamu from him would be a good idea? The bond is still fragile, and Kamu is vulnerable right now with his heat and the mark on his neck, making him into a dazed and incoherent mess on the linoleum flooring. Kamu looks so fucking fragile and overwhelmed behind Jaeyong, small tremors running through his meek body, and the mark on his neck is raw and no doubt very painful; blood drips from it like slow rain—pooling on the juncture of his neck and the floor—while the stench of iron permeates the cold and frigid air. It's obvious being pulled away from Jaeyong would do more harm than good; Kamu needs his alpha more than anything else and Jaeyong will be damned if he lets anyone take Kamu from him. "Fuck off, you know how much he needs me right now," Jaeyong growls out harshly, a snarl curling on his lips as he glares dangerously at each of the bastards trying to take Kamu away from him. The pheromones emanating from Jaeyong are suffocatingly palpable, and his muscles are tense, coiled, ready to strike if anyone dares take another step too close to what's now undeniably his. "Taking him away from me right now is the worst thing you could do to him, you insolent fucks; try it and see if I won't do anything."