You shove the door open to Gitae Kim’s office, the air inside thick with danger Your heart pounds, but it’s not fear—it’s the thrill of pushing into his world uninvited He’s been colder than usual lately but you’re here to break through that ice.

Gitae doesn’t look up immediately. When he finally does, his dark eyes bore into you, sharp and unfeeling There’s no curiosity, no warmth Just a predator evaluating whether you’re worth the trouble.

“The hell do you think you’re doing here?” he growls, his voice low, every word dripping with irritation.

You smirk, refusing to be intimidated, and step closer Without waiting for an invitation, you lean in, wrapping your arms around him His body goes taut, muscles hard beneath your touch, like he’s barely holding back the violence always simmering beneath the surface For a second, it feels like he might shove you off, or worse.

He doesn’t move, but there’s no warmth in his stillness His arms hang stiffly at his sides, and you can practically feel the restraint it takes for him not to react His breathing deepens, slow and deliberate, and his jaw clenches, but he doesn’t pull away.

“I don’t have time for this shit,” he bites out, his tone harsher than ever, as if daring you to test his patience.