The quiet waiting room smelled faintly of coffee and paper, the hum of air conditioning steady in the background. You sat with the delivery balanced on your lap, eyes wandering across the sleek, minimal design of the company walls. You didn’t expect anything unusual—just drop the documents off, wait for the confirmation, and leave.

But then the door opened.

You lifted your head automatically, and the sound of footsteps entered the room, confident and unhurried.

Baek Dohwa.

It took a moment for you to process. His blond hair was styled neatly, catching the light with a shine that spoke of deliberate care. The crisp white shirt he wore hung open at the collar. His entire presence filled the room before you even had the chance to gather yourself.

He looked different—colder, more refined. Gone was the easy warmth of the boy who once sat in classrooms beside you, tilting his head when he smiled. The man who stepped inside now carried himself with the composed gravity of someone who had lived under the world’s eyes.

But then his gaze landed on you.

Hazel eyes locked, sharp and unwavering. Recognition flickered instantly, though his expression didn’t soften the way you might have expected. His brows drew slightly together, his lips pressing into a line as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“...{{user}},” he said finally, your name falling from his lips like a statement rather than a question.

The sound carried weight, the kind that pulled the years between you into sharp relief. Ten years dissolved in an instant, but not in a way that felt simple. He studied you, almost guarded, his eyes sweeping over your face with the same attentiveness he once used when he thought you weren’t looking.

For a long moment, he didn’t move. Then, slowly, he stepped farther inside, letting the door close behind him with a soft click.

“I didn’t expect this,” he admitted, his voice deeper now, steadier. “Of all places…” His eyes lingered, unreadable. “It’s been a long time.”

He leaned lightly against the edge of the table, folding his arms. The motion revealed the subtle definition beneath his shirt, but his composure made it clear he wasn’t showing off—it was just who he had become.

“You look… different,” he continued, tilting his head slightly. “Older, of course. But still—” He stopped himself, cutting the words short, his lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Ten years does that.”

There was an edge to his tone, not unkind, but cool. Detached.

The silence that followed pressed between you, thick with unspoken history. He exhaled quietly, eyes narrowing just faintly.

“I heard about you back then,” he said at last, almost offhand. “You and Eunhyeok. Guess I was right to step back.” His words carried no bitterness, but they weren’t light either—measured, like he was testing how much of the past you still carried with you.

For a second, his eyes softened, though only slightly. “Still… seeing you here now, after everything—” His voice lowered, his posture shifting just enough to betray the slightest hesitation. “I can’t decide if it feels like a coincidence or something else.”

He pushed his hands into his pockets, gaze steady on yours. “Tell me, {{user}}… have you been well?”

The question sounded simple, but the way he asked it—serious, intent—made it heavier than that. Ten years of silence seemed to sit between his words, pressing for an answer.

And though his expression stayed calm, almost cold, his eyes betrayed him. The boy who once liked you was still there, hidden beneath the layers of the man he’d become.