The conference room was already filled with the faint sound of shuffling papers, muted conversations, the scrape of chairs against polished floors. You adjusted your notes, preparing, when your co-worker leaned over. “Director Go is here.” You looked up.

At the head of the table stood a tall figure, posture unwavering, dark suit fitted to formality. His expression was unreadable, gaze sweeping across the room with detached composure. When his eyes caught yours, they lingered—but only briefly. A fraction longer than necessary, then gone, as if nothing had happened.

“Good afternoon,” he said evenly. His voice was low, precise, each syllable clean, without softness.

“Let us begin.”

The meeting unfolded under his quiet authority. Eunhyuk spoke sparingly, never wasting words, his instructions clipped and direct. Others leaned forward when he addressed them, yet his tone remained the same: formal, almost cold, polite only in the strictest sense.

When your turn came to introduce yourself, his gaze returned to you. Steady. Controlled. His expression did not shift, but the silence in that span of seconds felt heavier than any words he spoke.

Business resumed. Pages turned. The rhythm of discussion was measured by his calm but firm interjections—“No, that won’t do.” “We’ll revisit this later.” “Continue.” His precision left little room for argument.

The break came. Chairs scraped as the room emptied, leaving only him at the head of the table, adjusting the pages before him with exacting order.

You passed near, and only then did he speak—clipped, formal, his tone cool, yet directed solely at you. “Miss {{user}}. Are your materials finalized?”

The weight of his gaze accompanied the question, though his voice remained coldly professional.

He waited, still, as though your answer mattered far more than the words suggested. When you replied, he gave the slightest nod—nothing more. No smile. No warmth.

“Good,” he said curtly, turning back to the papers with decisive precision, as if dismissing the exchange entirely.

Yet the air that lingered in the silence between you was unmistakable—an unspoken heaviness beneath his restraint, a tension sharper for how carefully he buried it.