Manson stepped in, his presence filling the room instantly oppressive, commanding. Across the room, Kim Dahyun sat sprawled on the couch, a glass of wine dangling lazily in his hand, its crimson contents catching the dim light like blood.
Manson's russet robe trailed behind him as he closed the distance, unhurried, composed, and carrying an unmistakable weight of authority.
Behind him, Brian lowered his head in a respectful bow and quietly withdrew, the door closing softly as he left them alone.
"Annyeonghaseyo, Kim Dahyun-ssi," he greeted, his voice smooth, too smooth as he dropped onto the sofa. The cushions groaned under his weight, as though protesting his dominance.
Dahyun lifted his gaze, unfazed, though a flicker of tension passed through his eyes.
"Annyeonghaseyo, Maenseon-ssi. Eotteoke jinaeseyo?"
A faint smirk tugged at Manson's lips. "Jeoneun gwaenchanayo."
There was a brief pause thick, suffocating.
